High School
by QueenOfCitrus
Summary: On his first day in his new school Ichigo bets over the local popular kid Hitsugaya Toshiro, and in a heartbeat he finds himself in a mixed-up intrigue. Turns out little Shiro once dated Ichimaru Gin - and the foxface isn't someone you'd like to mess up with. M-rated IchiHitsu; GinHitsu FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:Ouch, yes, long time, no see. But one year late? No apologizing would do. **

**So here's my new project! **

**I HAVEN'T DECIDED TH FINAL PAIRING YET! We have HitsuGin and HituIchigo in front of us. Make up your mind and tell me.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.  
**

* * *

Kurosaki Ichigo was most definitely NOT happy about the fact he had to move to a new school. And nothing anybody was telling him could change that - no explanations of how he would meet new people and no assurances of how he would make lots of friends were helping him feel any less crabby. Moving to a unknown place just _sucked_. As simple as that.

And while he _had_ overreacted a little by assuming he would not befriend anyone at all, it was the acknowledging of the local school hierarchy that made him not-so fond of the new place whatsoever.

Abarai Renji, or whatever the guy's name was, and his gang seemed like the most normal people around and they weren't even _close _to the normal normal he was used to deal with. They were so different and random that it was amazing they could actually form a group and get along without anyone eventually landing into a hospital. There was Ishida, the description of whom could be confined with one single word - geek. And then there was Ikkaku, hyperactive, bald and in mood for fighting over his loot (often food) 24/7, Yumichika, who probably devoted more time on his face and clothes then he did on his precious beauty sleep, Rukia, who was tiny and short-tempered girl with no talent in art whatsoever, the overly-kind Orihime, and of course, the red-headed and quite tetchy Renji himself.

Oh, yes, without a doubt 'weird' didn't even begin to describe them. But it didn't take Ichigo long to realize that they all had good intentions and that having people like them as your friends was probably one of the best chances he would get, not only in the new school, but overall everywhere.

"See that guy over there?" Renji began, pointing at a tall youth with short spiky black hair "Hisagi. He's cool, but a bit weird, too violent at times, so try not to... speak with him on his bad days. And the bashful-looking blond next to him? Kira. He's never a trouble. You'll like him. Everybody does." he looked around, then nodded towards the entrance of the cafeteria, where a group of girls had gathered "Short brunette next to the door - that's Hinamori for you. She's a little strange... Had some sort of obsession with one of the teachers - Aizen, before he left to teach for another school and truth to be told, the story was just plain creepy. Now... The tall chick with the glasses - that's Nanao." making a surly face, the red-head twisted his lips to the side and clarified in what appeared to be slight vexation "Don't get your hopes up. Kyouraku over there has had his eyes on her since like, I don't know, probably 6th grade. So far no progress has been made, seeing as he's a lady-killer and a dick and she's the primmest person I've ever met..."

"Who's that?" Ichigo asked, nodding towards the middle of the cafeteria, where a tall, slim man with silver hair and a large(and quite honestly beyond creepy) grin on his face was just standing up from his table, the casual action somehow attracting half the school's attention - something the strawberry had a hard time comprehending. Renji narrowed his eyes and took a bite from his sandwich as they both watched the guy get ogled, greeted, waved at and not return any of the those.

"Ichimaru Gin." Abrai finally said, clicking his tongue once, brows furrowing in a resentful scowl "Probably the school's most dangerous and, yeah, popular guy. Don't ask me _why_ everybody likes him so much, I have no idea. He's a sarcastic, evil show-off, who he gets into every social event, every party, cool club and whatever there is and to top it all is the second best soccer player on the school football team."

"Second best?" Ichigo repeated, a tinge of surprise splashing across his face as he eyed Renji with curiosity "Who's the best one then?"

"The football captain, of course."

"Wh-..?" Ichigo began, but was cut off by the school bell, the sound of which cause a loud series of moans to erupt all around the place. Letting out a weary sigh, Renji stood and dusted himself off sluggishly before glancing at his new comrade.

"Time to go, grab your stuff."

11111111111111111

That day they had a pretty light program and there were no maths involved whatsoever - something that was much to Kurosaki's liking, since he hated the said subject beyond belief. With the help of Renji's undying enthusiasm and his knowledge about all sorts of random issues, he soon learned almost everything there was about the school. At the end of the day, he even dared assume he already knew every single popular high school face around, till in the last break when he and Abarai were walking down an empty corridor, Ichigo almost stumbled upon a tall, strawberry blond girl with extremely large bust and big innocent blue eyes.

"Oops!" she exclaimed when she almost ran over Ichigo in front of one of the classrooms "Sorry, sweetie, my bad!" and with a small giggle, she hurried pass him, calling after somebody. Kurosaki looked over his shoulder after her out of habit, his chocolate orbs following her retreating form lazily for a moment until something else entered his range of vision and he froze. Sensing that something was off, Renji stopped in his track as well and turned around to follow his new friend's gaze, the look of disinterest instantly peeling off his face as he shifted his eyes from his newly acquired friend to the end of the corridor and back.

"Tell me you're looking after her..." Abarai murmured, a hint of irritation seeping into his voice as he turned to Ichigo who merely shook his head in response, never once redirecting his look.

Not so far away down the corridor, awaiting said girl, there stood a short thin boy with one hand on his hip and a very impatient look plastered across his face. A crown of startling white locks, growing in rebellious, yet beautifully arranged spikes, adorned his head, his features soft, yet exquisitely well-etched on his pale face and his eyes, breath-taking despite the implication of anger settled inside them, were a vivid, stunning jade color that made the carrot-top's mouth run dry. _Fuck! _Ichigo's own chocolate orbs traveled downwards, taking in the rest of the beauty in large, greedy gulps. The stranger's body was perfect in any way possible, proportional to the very last muscle and so graceful, yet proud and strong even in its passiveness that Ichigo found himself slightly intimidated by the breath-taking mien.

"Stop gawking." Renji scolded, reaching with one hand to shake Ichigo's shoulder in what appeared to be a sad attempt to bring the strawberry back to his senses "That's Hitsugaya Toushiro. He's absolutely out of your league."

Ichigo needed a couple of seconds and the boy out of his sight to comprehend exactly what the red-head was telling him.

"Hah, it's not like I was-..." Kurosaki began, trying to regain his cocky tone, but much to his irritation was cut off abruptly by Renji's loud laugh.

"Don't play dumb with me, I know what you were thinking." Abarai smirked, then shook his head and looked at where Hitsugaya had been standing a moment ago "That boy is probably the only one who has more people ogling him than Ichimaru Gin. Just give it up, it's hopeless there. Like... the forbidden fruit or something."

"What do you mean?"

Renji let out a small scoff, then lifted his hand and started counting on his fingers:

"First of all, he's a friggin' boy-genius. You have to be more than just clever to keep up with him. And I mean WAY above your average idea of "clever". Second of all, he has an absolutely impossible character. He's like this spoiled brat who gets pissed off by the tiniest things one second, and then your bossy superior the next. Trust me, I've see it in person and it ain't pretty. This tiny fella is unbearably haughty, short-tempered and not very friendly most of the time. Thirdly, he's the football team's _captain_ so-..."

"Wait, _what_? That diminutive guy is a _captain_?" Ichigio repeated with disbelieve. Renji dropped his arms by his sides, a loud sigh tearing from his lips as he mouthed something that suspiciously resembled 'Here we go again' before adding.

"Yeah, yeah, it might be a bit difficult to comprehend, but he runs faster than anyone I've ever seen and he's probably the best athlete in this school. He's an _animal_ on the field, I'm telling you, _no one_ can get pass him..." Renji paused for, dozing off in memories for a few seconds, then came back to life and continued "Anyhow, we reached to what? Four. SO, this is probably the MOST important of all..." he quieted down, letting his lips twist into a sly smirk momentarily "but you've probably already guessed it."

Ichigo stared at him dumbfounded for a few seconds, obviously refusing to strain himself to try and solve any riddles whatsoever, so Abarai just sighed with defeat.

"Fine, obviously you haven't. But it's... It's so obvious..." he shut it, looking around to make sure no one could overhear him, then continued a bit more quietly "Hitsugaya Toushiro... is Ichimaru Gin's little bitch."

Ichigo's throat went dry.

"Do you...do you mean they are dating?" he chocked, horror-struck in earnest but Abarai shook his head.

"They _used to_, but Toushiro ended it, no one is sure why. Ever since then Ichimaru is making attempts to win him back. None of them worked so far. At least not officially."

"Not officially?"

"Some say that Hitsugaya still loves the jerk and though Ichimaru can't get him back as a boyfriend, what he _does_ get, is the occasional fuck."

"_What?_" Ichigo shouted and the red-head emitted a generous amount of laugh at the carrot-top's shocked expression.

"Those are just rumors, okay? They might as well _not _be true." Renji pointed out, patting his new friend's shoulders soothingly "But it doesn't change the fact you don't stand a chance."

Ichigo paused, a small smirk spreading across his face at those words as he raised both brows in a challenge.

"Wanna bet?" Kurosaki asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets and crossed his ankles in a casual manner, letting his words sink in into the other one's brain. The red-head's eyes instantly shone with a sort of devious excitement and he folded his arms in front of his chest, nodding encouragingly.

"You're on. Talk."

"A hundred bucks that I'll get him to be my boyfriend."

"As if. I'm not agreeing unless you get him laid."

The corridor fell silent for a moment, then a haughty smirk diffused on Ichigo's face as he stretched his hand forward.

"Deal."

111111111111111111

As usual, Hitsugaya Toushiro stayed for a few more laps after the soccer practice was over. And as usual, when he got into the changing-room it was empty, messy, stuffy and it smelled like sweat and socks. He wrinkled his nose, groaning softly, then swiftly grabbed his towel and headed for the showers.

The tepid water felt good against his overheated skin. It was purifying, relaxing, washing away not only the thin layer of perspiration from his flesh, but the worries and stress from the day, as well. He could stay in there, engulfed by the sensation of the drops raining on his face, neck and back forever. It was a well-acknowledged feeling, one that made him experience the slightly disturbing dizziness and reluctance each time he went through it and then forced himself to leave and head back home.

He moved his head a bit from side to side, trying to get rid of a few unwanted kinks and with the corner of his eye he caught a sight of a small part of his tattoo, a tiny smirk forming on his lips. He had it made a few years ago, reason unknown even for himself. It was just one of those things that popped into his mind and he felt this inexplicable, undeniable urge to do it, do it now and do it so it's something striking, stunning, something unique...

And it was. It was a tattoo of a large white ice-dragon.

His smirk grew wider as he thought of how little people would choose something like that to imprint on their backs.

But it was a brilliant idea nevertheless. He drew a sketch of how he wanted it to look like himself for the guy who tattooed him and in the end it turned out beautifully.

He closed his eyes, imagining it with the precision of his genius memory, the creature's terrifying jaws opening a little bit below his left shoulder-blade, the powerful scaly body and the magnificent tail twisting and coiling intricately over the pale flesh until they reached the small of his back, whereas the wings bent in the process of unfolding, one of them reaching across his left shoulder and over his collarbone for him to see with his peripheral vision every time he didn't wear a top.

"Trainin' again, chibi?" Hitsugaya's head snapped up and he was about to turn around, when a hand snaked around his waist from behind and a mouth latched around a sensitive place on the crook on his neck.

"Ichimaru..." the boy breathed, shuddering involuntarily when the man pulled him closer to his chest with a chuckle.

"So formal, kitten..." Gin murmured, the hand around the smaller one's waist loosening enough for the long digits to began caressing the flat stomach, while the other one rested on the boy's hip, tapping gently the pale flesh.

"We're not together anymore..." Hitsugaya gasped as the mouth on his neck began moving, sucking and biting gently at exactly the right places. He closed his eyes, his lips parting slightly as the sensation spread across his whole being mercilessly. The palm on his hip began clawing gently against the skin, shooting a wave of pleasure through the boy's body. Before he knew it, his exquisite hand shot up to wrap around the other man's neck from behind and he leaned his head back, melting into the bigger male.

"I kno' ya well..." Ichimaru hummed against the boy's neck as he sucked on that spot, while his hand traveled up from Hitsugaya's hip, tracing the outlines of the side of the boy's body, across the sensitive armpit that was bared for him, because of the raised arm around his neck, until he reached the elbow.

"...too well, in fact..."

Ichimaru gently parted the smaller boy's legs with his knee, earning a small whimper from the slightly opened mouth.

"'s been awhile..." the man whispered, the hand across Hitsugaya's stomach slowly moving up until it reached the boy's nipple.

"Oh, God..." Toushiro gasped when Ichimaru's fingers brushed against the bud.

"God has nothin' ta do with this." Gin chuckled, thrusting his knee slightly upwards and making the boy whimper helplessly "Ya're callin' the wron' name, kitten... C'mon, be my submissive little bitch t'night an' I'll make ya feel real good..."

Hitsugaya's eyes shot open at those words and he tried to pull away, but the man's hands held him in place.

"I don't belong to you or to anyone whatsoever, release me this instant!" the boy hissed. Ichimaru chuckled then spun the smaller boy around and pinned him against the wall by the wrists.

"Ya didn' sound like ya didn' enjoy ya'self a moment ago." Gin cooed, letting his free hand travel down the flawless chest.

"Let go of me, Ichimaru, you fuckin' bastard!" Hitsugaya snarled, attempting to break free from the unyielding hold. The man let out another chuckle before grabbing the boy's chin into an almost painful grip and forcing it upwards.

"Ya've always had such a dirty lil' mouth..." Gin murmured, tracing Toushiro's lower lip with his thumb "Haven't ya learned yet that ya only provoke me ta shove _somethin' _in it to silence ya... "

Hitsugaya snapped his head to a side, successfully getting rid of the abusing hand on his chin, but didn't dare to make any other movement after that. He kept his eyes and face lowered and sideward, avoiding the other man's gaze.

"Le's talk honestly, neko... " Ichimaru said, leaning forwards and gently pressing his knee between the boy's legs "Ya neva' miss ta succumb."

"Shut up..." Hitsugaya gasped, slumping helplessly when offensive limb started rubbing against him, making him shudder and pant with every less and less gentle movement. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head drop on his shoulder, his fingers, trapped by the larger palm above him, curling and uncurling one last time before surrendering.

"Ya're not very convincin', chibi."

"Gods, just... Stop..."

"Why?" Ichimaru let his hand slowly, painfully slowly trace the boy's hip, down the slim thigh and then under the knee, before abruptly pulling forward and bringing the slender leg up. Hitsugaya let out a small whimper, his body going limp and defenseless into the cruel hands.

"Please... Don't do this..."

Ichimaru leaned forward and suddenly gave him a gentle, amazingly soft kiss on the lips.

"I wouldn't, if I was completely sure you didn' want it."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Well, there you go, chapter 2. Might be kindda OOC. Deal with it. Personally I enjoyed writing it. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ! And no flamers, dammit!**_

* * *

"My throat is sore!" Hitsugaya snapped for the hundredth time that morning, now at a group of students who were staring stubbornly at him as they passed him by. Immediately, said students quickened their pace, their eyes wide with surprise and fear at the hostility that was rather unexpectedly presented to them and in respond to their actions, Toushiro simply grunted angrily under his breath. Next to the crabby white-haired blizzard, Matsumoto Rangiku let out a small sigh and ran a hand through her strawberry locks.

"You should really stop doing that, Toushiro." she said quietly. Hitsugaya tightened the white scarf around his neck as his scowl deepened.

"How am I supposed to be calm when they keep giving me these looks?" he asked curtly, his both palms clamping around his already well covered neck. Next to him Matsumoto sighed yet again, before placing her hand on his shoulder carefully and slowing her pace down until they stopped in the end of the corridor, next to one of the columns.

"This is not what I'm talking about..." she replied, her voice soft and gentle as she let her finger brush against a small dark spot right on his jaw-line. Hitsugaya's brows relaxed from their frown as he averted his gaze, a look of utter regret settling across his slightly paler than usual face. Matsumoto's blue orbs shone with pity at the sight and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again to contemplate him with more determination.

"You have to do something about this!" she insisted, her voice stronger than before.

"I'm fine, Matsumoto, don't-..."

"He's _hurting_ you!"

Hitsugaya's lips clamped shut at that rather downright statement which he couldn't answer back to, when suddenly a familiar voice sounded from behind the nearest turn and seconds later Ichimaru Gin and a few other guys came into view.

"Shiro-chaan!" the fox-face cooed as he spotted the boy. The students who were walking with him let out a few stifled chuckles that made Hitsugaya's eyes widen ever so slightly before narrowing dangerously.

"I need to talk to you." Toushiro replied between his teeth before grabbing Ichimaru's hand and dragging his away from Matsumoto and the other guys.

One minute later...

"Wha's the matter, kitten?" Gin asked when the smaller boy pushed him inside the men's room and shortly after that in one of the cabins before locking the door.

"Will you shut up for a moment?" Hitsugaya snapped, letting the top of the toilet behind the man fall down before pushing Ichimaru to sit on it.

"'f ya'd jus' explain ta me..."

"Just look..." the boy cut him off, swiftly removing the scarf from his neck before starting to unbutton his shirt. Ichimaru's ever-present grin disappeared for a small particle of the second, before reappearing even bigger than before.

"'f ya wanted anotha' round ya should've jus' said so from the very start." Gin murmured as he watched Hitsugaya's nimble fingers efficiently work their way down. The boy looked up abruptly at that comment, his frown deepening murderously as to let the other man know he had no intention of doing any sort of dishonorable things with him, then pushed the shirt down his shoulders and to the curve of his elbows, revealing the usually flawless white chest.

"Take a look." Toushiro hissed, gesturing towards his upper body where one after the other, a sea of small and large bright purplish bruises marred the smooth flesh, their number increasing from the lowest parts around the waistband up towards the neck and the shoulders where the splotches covered more than half of the general territory.

"I don't even want to remember what is the condition of my lower half." the boy murmured, his eyes flashing with a strange emotion that Gin missed.

"Ya didn' seem ta mind last night..." the man cooed, reaching with one hand for the small waist but getting his hand quickly swatted away.

"Don't pretend you didn't know this would happen!" Hitsugaya snapped, leaning slightly forward as his jaw clenched with anger "You might be anything, Ichimaru, but you are _not _inexperienced! You knew what you were doing!"

"But Shiro-chan, I dun understand why ya're so upset... "

"Don't you dare! I'm wearing a scarf at this time of the year - the whole school is starting at me! I know well enough what's going through their heads!"

"Tha truth, chibi."

Hitsugaya paused, his eyes suddenly full of indignation.

"So my reputation, my pride - they mean nothing to you?"

"Aww, dun be like that, neko!" Ichimaru chanted softly as his eyes quickly eyed the boy from head to toe hungrily "I'm sorry if I've been ta rough ta ya..."

"Right." Hitsugaya murmured, quickly throwing his shirt on and beginning to button it up. When the other man attempted to reach for him again, the boy swatted the offending hand once more.

"Don't touch me!" Toushiro snarled, baring two lines of perfect white teeth before dashing out of the men's room.

* * *

"How come people don't know anything about this kid?" Ichigo asked as he caught up with Renji on his way to biology.

"You mean Hitsugaya?" the red-head asked absently.

"Yeah."

"So you've taken our bet for serious? This should be interesting..."

Ichigo scoffed, shaking his head as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Why wouldn't I? "

"I don't know... maybe because it's impossible to win?"

"That's what _you_ say." Ichigo mumbled with a roll of his warm brown eyes. Next to him Renji sniggered rather loudly, reaching to give his newly-found buddy an overly powerful pat on the shoulder.

"Fine, fine, whatever, I don't mind! Really, I don't! It'll be both amusing and profitable, so why not?" the red-head paused, musing for a second, then added with a grin "I'll even help you out some, since you are new and you're not very familiar with stuff round here." he cleared his throat "Remember that girl that ran into you yesterday?"

"The one with the large, uh-..."

"Precisely! That's Matsumoto Rangiku."

"...alright, so?"

"SOO she's not only totally hot, but she happens to be our little boy's best friend! ...or only friend... it doesn't really matter..."

Ichigo let out a small "hm", processing the fresh information for a moment.

"And you suggest I go ask her about him?" he said but Renji choke on his own breath and started flailing his arms around hysterically.

"Of course not! What gave you that idea?"

"But you just said..."

"Look, this girl really cares about him. She looks after him, gets him out of trouble whenever he needs it AND warns him for people like you. Go ask her questions and she'll completely block your way to him." Renji explained, scratching the back of his neck absently "And since she's the only one who can actually tell you a completely truthful information about Hitsugaya - well, you're screwed."

Ichigo let out a loud groan, running a hand across his face with irritation.

"Renji, you're not hel-aaaAAAH, watch out!"

A small yelp sounded and next thing Kurosaki knew, someone had ran straight into him (again) just outside the men's room. And surprisingly enough, it was someone rather small...

"Ugh..." came from somewhere below and the person, whose face was buried inside Ichigo's shirt because of the enormous speed with which he had crashed into the carrot top, began sliding down, obviously too dizzy to keep his balance in check. Next to the two, Abarai let out a small hiccup of surprise and made a few steps to the side, his eyes never once leaving the unusual scene. Kurosaki's hands shot automatically for the smaller body, wrapping supportively around it and just after that noticing the quite distinctive tuft of soft snowy-white hair that adorned the top of the boy's head.

"I-I'm so sorry..." Hitsugaya uttered, grabbing on the larger hands to steady himself and looking up to meet the taller student's eyes "I wasn't paying attention."

"Nah, it's no biggie." Ichigo assured him as he carefully released the boy and stepped back. Toushiro quickly nodded to him again and without a warning rushed past the orange-haired teen, disappearing behind the corner in a heartbeat.

The two taller students stood still and silent for a couple of seconds, staring blankly at the place where Hitsugaya had disappeared.

"What just happened?" Ichigo asked softly, his frown deepening ever so slightly. Next to him Renji let out a small huff, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Hitsugaya Toushiro just ran into you. Gee, do I have to tell you everything?"

"That's not what I meant, you idiot!" Ichigo snapped, glaring at the red-head over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the corner behind which the white-haired boy had disappeared "He looked upset..."

Behind his back Renji just snickered, shaking his head with amusement.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hitsugaya is _never_ upset."

"Yeah?" Ichigo raised a brow, biting on his lower lip for a moment before adding a bit more softly "Well, he just was."

And before Renji could say or do anything whatsoever, Kurosaki was gone behind that very same corner.

* * *

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Hitsugaya hissed, punching the wall every time he repeated the insult. Why did he always end up like this? Why did he make the same stupid mistake, force himself through the same thorny path, poison himself with the same seething anger and disappointment? Why couldn't he learn, the way everybody else did, the way he always got things so well in school, why couldn't he comprehend this one simple little fact - Ichimaru Gin would never treat him right, would never respect him, would never be gentle, or patient, or understanding, or even remotely careful.

No. Never.

_Because people don't change and time doesn't heal._

Hitsugaya let out a small cry of anger, pulling his already bleeding fist back as far as possible and was just about to smash it again in the wall with all force, when suddenly a strong hand wrapped around his wrist and stopped the blow before it had began.

The boy's eyes widened and a small gasp escaped his pale lips before he was suddenly spun around and forced to face a rather annoyed and vaguely familiar face.

"Is that why you went on the roof? So you can hurt yourself without anyone being there to stop you?" Ichigo growled, grabbing Hitsugaya's arms and shaking the smaller body slightly more violently than acceptable. The pair of jade eyes immediately narrowed threateningly and the ever-present frown that had disappeared for a few seconds due to the shock of Kurosaki's presence, was back into place in a heartbeat.

"What is it to you?" Toushiro snapped, trying to break free from the firm grip rather unsuccessfully "This is not your business!"

"It is if I decide it is!" Ichigo replied between clenched teeth as he tightened his hold on the boy's arms in attempt to keep him in place.

"Just release me and leave me alone, dammit!" Hitsugaya spat back, annoyance and exasperation towards the orange-haired teen gradually building up in his chest and stomach as the later refused to let go.

"I would if I wasn't sure that with me out of sight you'd smash your fist into a bloody pancake into that wall!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM! You don't even _know_ me!"

"Do I have to know a person to care whether he's hurting himself?" Ichigo growled straight into the smaller student's face without thinking "Is that what you'd do? Are you _that_ uncaring and apathetic? Because, honestly, so far I didn't believe all the rumors I heard about you and right now you're rather plainly confirming them."

Hitsugaya abruptly stopped struggling at those words and gasped, his features softening and the outrageously hateful expression disappeared from his face. The look in his eyes changed almost supernaturally from a hostile into a bewildered and almost helpless one. Over the span of a few seconds, the ardent anger almost visibly melted in front of Ichigo's already rather puzzled brown orbs, leaving the smaller boy defensive and uncontrollably shaking in Kurosaki's now supporting arms.

"I..." Hitsugaya closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a bit light-headed now that the overwhelming rage had so suddenly vanished "I-I'm sorry. I was unforgivably rude, you were just trying to help... and..." the words died in his throat and he swallowed, looking away. Ichigo's grip on his arms slowly loosened but he didn't let go, still observing the boy with a strange mix of curiosity, adoration and nonplus. His eyes, having the chance to have a closer look now traveled along the perfect composition that was Toushiro's lean body, examined the rarely-colored and heavily-lashed teal eyes, the whimsically shaped lips, the softly etched jaw and the silky, rebelliously growing tuft of snowy-white hair.

This kid was nothing but gorgeous.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Ichigo said, his voice suddenly gentler, quieter "I understand that you were upset."

"Still, I..."

"You're shaking. Are you alright?"

The edges of Hitsugaya's lips quivered, on the very verge of a tiny sad smile that never emerged. He just shook his head for no apparent reason and replied:

"I'm alright, it's just the after-effects of the anger outburst... or whatever you'd like to call it."

"Do you need anything?" Ichigo asked, raising a brow.

"No, I'll be fine. I just need to sit down for a moment." with that Hitsugaya carefully extracted himself from Kurosaki's grip and walked to very same wall he'd been hitting before sitting on the ground with his back against it. Ichigo couldn't help it but narrow his eyes slightly as he noticed the faint cautiousness in Toushiro's movements as the boy assumed that position unusually slowly and carefully.

"Was it worth the pain?"

"What...?"

"The fist. Was it worth injuring your hand like that?" Ichigo asked, shaking his head abruptly once as if to clear it from unwanted thought. Hitsugaya didn't notice. He was occupied with examining the damage on his knuckles and how the flesh had bruised horribly or torn at places.

"Just a scratch."

"Bleeding, bruised, swollen scratch that had multiplied and grown to rather large cuts, yeah, totally..." Kurosaki murmured sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. Hitsugaya just shot him a glare from his place on the ground before clenching his fist and cradling his offended limb to himself.

"Thanks for your help, I don't want to hold you back anymore... you should go if you don't want to be late for your class." Hitsugaya said, pulling his knees up half the way to his chest.

"What about you?"

"I'm skipping... "

"You're skipping?" Ichigo repeated, raising a brow skeptically. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and let out an exhausted sigh.

"Yes, I'm really not in the mood for listening to the history teacher's endless babbling." the boy mumbled irritably, reaching unconsciously to check on the scarf that was tightly wrapped around his slender neck "And believe me, I don't get in trouble about not attending classes every now and then..."

"Yeah, I guess you _are_ kind of valuable."

"I didn't want to put it that way."

"I really don't care. Skip as much as you like, I was just wondering what you were going to do in the meanwhile."

"Are you interrogating me or something?"

"No, I was just curious... No need to get all touchy about it."

"Hm."

Ichigo contemplated the smaller boy for a moment, then made his wait towards Toushiro's seated form and squat in front of him.

"I don't feel like history either." Kurosaki said softly, the edges of his lips curving into a small smirk "Wanna go grab a coffee or something?"

Hitsugaya's eyebrows furrowed instantly and Ichigo could read the solid "no" that was written all over the pale face, the word on its way to emerge and emit between those soft lips but before the boy had the chance to refuse, the carrot-top let out a small laugh and added:

"I don't suppose you have anything better to do. And you'll be overestimating yourself quite a lot if you don't agree just because you think I'm hitting on you or something."

Hitsugaya's features softened slightly, even though the scowl didn't go away and he exhaled between his teeth before throwing his hands in the air with surrender.

"Fine. Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. I was lacking inspiration.  
**

**ATTENTION: DUE TO THE RULES OF THE SITE, I HAVE REMOVED A SCENE from this chapter so as to not cause problem with its CONTENT and I have placed said scene in LIVEJOURNAL.  
**

**__****Link to the story IN MY PROFILE PAGE or this:**  


**__********queenofcitrus(then you write a dot and 'livejournal') (then a dot) (then 'com/2846')(then a dot)(then 'html')**

**__****Please, support the petition to allow writers to have stories containing lemons - you will find the petition by googling 'petition to stop the destruction of fanfiction'**

**__****or... www(then dot)change(then dot)(then org)(then this /petitions/fanfiction-net-stop-the-destruction-of-fanfiction-net)  
**

**__****Till then... I'm saving my stories pretty much. :3**

* * *

As Ichigo ordered himself a cup of coffee and turned to Hitsugaya with brows raised with expectation, he could not help himself but think how great things had turned out. It was only his second day in this school and he was already getting to know the most popular and gorgeous and also out of reach boy here. Okay, so maybe said boy was kindda upset and had tried to break his fist in the wall, but that was just how fate worked to helped the favored ones in their tasks. And, _man_, was Toushiro a pretty task or what?

"Orange juice, please." Hitsugaya ordered quietly. The waitress wrote it down in her notebook and gave him a dazzling smile before walking away.

"You don't drink coffee?" Ichigo asked, surprise clear in his voice.

"Nope. I hate the taste." Toushiro answered absently and examined his damaged hand as he folded and unfolded his fingers slowly. Ichigo couldn't help it but feel a little awkward at the thought he had invited Hitsugaya to a cup of coffee when said boy didn't even drink coffee but decided not to get to carried away with that and instead fulfill his time by getting to know the object of his… bet.

"Sooo…" Ichigo began uneasily. "You're the captain of the football team, huh? Wow. This is so… awesome. Yeah. Cool. Good for you."

Hitsugaya lifted his eyes, raising one brow with amusement.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" the white-haired boy asked, a small smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. Ichigo's cheeks heated but he refused to surrender as a stubborn expression appeared on the strawberry's face and he tried to regain his confidence.

"Maybe I like pointing out the obvious." Uh-oh. Why couldn't he make himself sound cocky and uncaring? Why did he sound stupider with every passing second?

"Maybe you do." Hitsugaya agreed, the amused smile spreading even more as the orange juice was placed in front of him and Ichigo got his cup of coffee.

Pause.

"I'm not good at making a small talk." The strawberry confessed, praying to the fate to help him once again. Hitsugaya however just shrugged and took a sip from his drink before placing both of his hands on the table, on top of one another.

"I don't remember seeing you in school. Are you new around here?" Toushiro asked. For a moment or two Ichigo could not react, having some trouble processing the fact the diminutive student was helping him out, but got back to his senses as he cleared his throat and put some sugar in his coffee.

"Yeah, it's my second day."

"Hm. And you're already skipping?"

"I'm not…" Ichigo began but the pessimistic look on the other one's face reminded him he was supposed to have English class right now, instead of be sitting in a café with the football team's captain. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"How do you like it here? Did you get introduced to the hierarchy?"

"Yup. It was quite… um, interesting?"

Hitsugaya let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"I'm not good with adjectives, either." Ichigo pointed out, a small blush creeping up his cheeks again. He could not believe how many times this boy had made him blush, but he could not help it. He wondered if everybody felt that way around the snowflake, but the thought was quickly pushed aside as he remembered that probably most of the students didn't even dare speak to Hitsugaya because of his previous relationship with Ichimaru.

"You're not on a grammar test." Toushiro noticed, amusement now the major feeling that his face expressed. "It must be hard for you – being new and all. You have to be very careful, though. This school is like a little village. You'd be surprised how many people are watching your every move."

"Ouch. Sounds scary. Will you be one of those people?" the moment Ichigo blurted it, he wished he could bite his tongue off as Hitsugaya's expression darkened and he pulled back, withdrawing his hands from the table.

"I wouldn't count on that." Boy, could that tone freeze your bones!

There was silence for a couple of seconds when Ichigo finally spoke again, more carefully than before:

"I haven't got to know many people around here. Is there going to be a party or something so I can make more friends?"

Hitsugaya's face became slightly less dark and he nodded.

"I think there's going to be one on Friday." He pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down the address, cringing slightly as he had to use his injured hand. He then pushed it across the table towards Ichigo and drank the rest of his juice before standing up.

"You tell them I invited you and they'll let you in." he promised but there was no real feeling on his face as he said so. "I have to go now, see you."

"Wait!" Ichigo called, alarmed. "Will you be there?"

But it was already too late as Hitsugaya had left the café and headed towards the school.

That night Hitsugaya could not fall asleep. Memories of the previous night came back to him again and again, tormenting his mind and disturbing his sleep. Finally, he lay down flat on his back and stared at the ceiling with surrender as it all played out in his head one final time.

* * *

Flashback:

Water was still running down their faces and bodies as Ichimaru continued stealing the breath from the boy's mouth with fervent, almost brutal kisses. When the fox finally withdrew, eyeing Toushiro's bruised lips with content, he could not help himself but smile inwardly.

""s exactly the way I like ya…" Gin murmured, running a thumb over the swollen lower lip of the shorter student. This time Hitsugaya made no attempt to pull away, enduring the caress with almost imperceptible pants as his jade orbs followed the man's movements with a mix of worry and anticipation.

"'s somethin' the matter, chibi?" Ichimaru asked, pressing his body against the smaller one a bit more tightly. Hitsugaya's eyes widened and he gasped softly, before shaking his head vehemently.

"We can't… we can't do this here…" the school captain panted, his hands renewing their attempts of breaking free from the unyielding grasp. Ichimaru didn't do anything for awhile, enjoying the sight of his prize, writhing helplessly under his hold, then leaned forward, nipping gently on a sensitive ear.

"Really? I find this quite arousin'." He purred, one hand travelling up the boy's chest and feeling every little shiver Toushiro tried to hide. "Besides… 'm neva sure when it comes ta ya… If I let ya go, ya might run off and leave me all alone…" with that he let his hand drop and wander on the boy's sensitive inner thigh, his mouth now travelling down to encircle a nipple. A strangled moan escaped Hitsugaya's lips. At that moment Ichimaru already knew the answer, but he took hold of the boy's already hardening length anyway, rubbing it gently with his skillful fingers. The respond did not wait as the shorter student threw his head back and writhed under the touch.

"I-I won't… ughh… run off. I promise…" Toushiro bit down on his lower lip, trying to keep himself from moaning any louder. "We can go at… ahhh! My place… no one's there…"

Ichimaru rose to the boy's eye-level, his grin growing even wider as he examined the flushed face. He licked his lips and congratulated himself for bringing that remarkable look of need and defeat in those jade orbs. It reminded him of the time when they used to be dating. Back then it took the fox a long time before he was finally allowed to claim the boy. But the wait was worth it. He still received chills when he thought about that night when he could at last call Toushiro truly his, when he thought about those strangled cries of pleasure, that agile body, moving beneath him and those slender white fingers, clawing against the skin of the taller man's back as Gin drove into the tight ass harder and harder.

He hummed, letting go of the boy's wrists. The school captain was still his, even if Hitsugaya tried to deny it. And encounters like this only proved it.

Less than half an hour later, they were at Hitsugaya's place. As the boy locked the door behind him and leaned against the door-frame, Gin could tell the second thoughts were starting to pop up in that white-haired head of his. Ichimaru just grinned, then pinned the boy against the door before any lights were turned on.

"Dun worry, kitten…" Gin began, pulling the jacked off the small body before starting to unbutton the shirt underneath swiftly. "I'll take good care of you."

For a couple of seconds Hitsugaya didn't react. Then suddenly, his body tensed and he grabbed Ichimaru's wrists, efficiently stopping him in their tracks.

"Wait…" the boy began and before the taller student could object, Toushiro had slipped between his hands and was walking away. "Maybe we shouldn't do this. Maybe this time we should just talk."

Ichimaru was behind him in a heartbeat, pulling the smaller boy tightly against his chest. One hand unbuttoned the shirt completely and was stoking a hard nipple, while the other, more sinful one had dipped inside the captain's pants. Hitsuagaya's body immediately became supple and responding as the shorter student threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. A soft laugh sounded behind him. The fox knew exactly where to touch, where to caress, where to kiss and suck and wherever those cruel fingers travelled, they left a burning trace on the innocently white flesh.(...)

* * *

**_Missing scene can be found in my LJ account. Links to that you'll discover in my Author notes and on my profile page._**

* * *

(...)

"Well?" Gin asked, panting with blissful exhaustion. Hitsugaya didn't say anything for awhile – his hand was on his face and he was panting heavily, until finally he turned to his lover and replied:

"I need to wash up. Immediately."

Ichimaru laughed at that statement and leaned towards the boy, giving Hitsugaya a quick kiss on the lips.

"An' he's back ta his senses…"

Toushiro couldn't help a small smile.

"So?"

"So nothin'. That's what makes me so attracted ta ya." Ichimaru pointed out. "Ya act all cold and composed but in the end of the day yer the best fuck I've eva' had. Ya jus' need someone like me ta push yer buttons and bring up tha' lil bitch tha's inside ya, ne?"

For a couple of seconds there was nothing.

"Get out." Hitsugaya suddenly said, his voice so cold it could freeze your very soul. "Get your clothes and go."

"Aw, but Shiro-chan! I didn' mean ta hurt yer feelings…" Ichimaru whined, reaching with one hand to touch the small shoulder but Toushiro pushed him away turning to the side and gathering the blanket over his naked body.

"I _said_ get the hell out of here, Ichimaru. This was one fuckin' mistake and it will not happen again."

"Ya neva' get tired of repeatin' this, do ya?"

"Dammit, Gin, just leave me alone, okay!" Hitsugaya yelled, his voice slightly breaking.

Ichimaru didn't make a move for a couple of seconds, then slipped out of the bed and gathered his clothes, before exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

End of flashback.

* * *

_**A/N: LINK TO THE MISSING SCENE:**_

_**Y**_**ou can also find the link in my profile page if you don't feel like removing brackets: ********__********queenofcitrus(then you write a dot and 'livejournal') (then a dot) (then 'com/2846')(then a dot)(then 'html')**  



	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I want to say that I am very disappointed with what happened to my last chapter. Maybe I wouldn't have been if I hadn't put so much effort in it - but I did and I really hoped that you would appreciate it. I needed to know what you guys thought and how well I did, especially with the lemon, which was my most insecure part. It was my second lemon EVER and I waited and waited and waited to receive reviews on it. But I mostly didn't. I got some flame from an Anonymous person and it was too rude for me to even look at it, so I deleted it. I do not tolerate flamers and I hope that is clear from now on. This chapter is short and not many things happen, but if you want to see what happens with the "Truth or Dare" thing in the end, I suggest you review, even if you don't use your account (apparently some people are ashamed to review things like things), because I should tell you there is NOTHING as inspiring as a thorough review. Thank you.**_

* * *

"Do you think he'll come?" Ichigo asked for a fifth time that evening as he glanced impatiently at the front door, his fingers drumming nervously on the table.

"Do you really wanted me to tell you that I _don't know_ again?" Renji said in a drawl before fixing his eyes on his plastic cup of whiskey and smirking. "Do you know what I like about parties the most? Free drinks in ugly plastic cups."

Ichigo eyed his comrade with a sort of gracious amusement and shook his head before taking a small sip of his own beverage. He was glad Abarai agreed to come along and that they had no problem with the half-drunk host, who had greeted them with open arms and a smile that just screamed he was the world's best friend. Which, by the way, was virtually the situation with almost everybody who had decided to attend. Apparently, alcohol did wonders – even the moodiest, most reserved students were now hooting and dancing, and bumping into things and rolling on the ground…

Despite the slightly disturbing atmosphere, Ichigo had to admit the party was well-thought. The larges room in the house was turned into a dance-floor with music blasting from all four corners at once, a table with snacks near one of the walls and a sort of a small bar with all kinds of drinks next to it. Everybody who couldn't stand on their feet were carried upstairs to the bedrooms and provided with a basin, while the majority of the rest were grinding their bodies against each other in pairs in synchrony with the loud beat. The minority was either sitting somewhere in process of getting drunk or making out in some alcove.

Ichigo almost choked when a strange little boy rolled under his chair and then crawled to the opposite side, muttering something about evil left shoes. The strawberry followed the kid's movements until said boy disappeared from sight and was about to shift his gaze, when he noticed two people entering the stuffy dim-lighted room, looking like they could use a few minutes of getting used to the surroundings.

"There he is!" the strawberry jumped, reaching blindly beside him to poke Renji's shoulder. Instead, all he got was a loud disgruntled snort as the red-head poured the rest of his drink into his throat and pushed his friend's hand away lazily.

"I'm busy!" Abarai managed, turning his back to his friend and pouring himself another dose of whiskey. Ichigo couldn't help it but grin at his friend lop-sidedly as he decided to leave him to his drink and stood up from his place, eyes following Hitsugaya and Matsumoto as they made their way to the bar. The strawberry took a moment to gather his courage, then took a deep breath and started to walk in the needed direction.

"Hey!" Ichigo greeted as he thrust past some large guy and stumbled before Toushiro, an awkward smile playing on the taller teen's lips. The football captain fixed his eyes on the other student, a look of slight surprise and perplexity settling across the boy's pale face:

"Hey… you?" Hitsugaya replied, raising a quizzical brow and Matsumoto burst into giggles behind him. Ichigo couldn't help it but blush furiously as he realize he hadn't really told his name to the prodigy.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." The taller teen cleared out, rubbing the back of his head nervously. Toushiro just nodded, the look of expectation still clear on his face as he pursed his lips in a tight line, refusing to return the other guy's goofy grin. There was silence after that for Ichigo was still recovering from his newest display of stupidity and Hitsugaya was explicitly (but silently) trying to show the other one he had no idea what the strawberry wanted. Finally, the white-haired boy sighed with exasperation, folding his hands in front of his chest and pointing out flatly:

"I will not say your name is pretty if that's what you expect from me."

Ichigo was thrown in yet another furious flushing fit as he started flailing his hands around vigorously and tried to explain that he did not, in fact, anticipate such respond. That explanation was extremely messed up, inarticulate and overall so obviously lacking any signs of common sense, that both Hitsugaya and Matsumoto(despite her great power of imagination) could hardly make out what he was trying to say. Several half-drunk people even stopped to stare with curiosity as Ichigo continued blabbering without a halt, already going in a completely different direction, so Toushiro decided to graciously put an end to this performance and shoved an empty plastic cup in the strawberry's hands.

"Will you get me a drink?" the prodigy asked, gazing at the other guy's eyes intensely. Kurosaki immediately clamped his moth shut, forgot completely what he had been trying to explain and dashed away, a bit overly eager to oblige.

"Great!" Hitsugaya exclaimed, turning around to face Matsumoto when he could no longer see Ichigo. "Let's make a run for it before he returns."

"Why?" the girl asked, blinking with confusion as Toushiro grabbed her wrist and tugged on it on his way in the opposite direction. "He seemed like a nice guy."

"Matsumoto…" he urged, stopping dead on his tracks when he noticed his friend wasn't moving. Matsumoto released her hand only to put it on her hip and eyed the boy almost reproachfully.

"He just wants to talk. Don't be so rude to him." She admonished him, raising her brows. "He's new and he's probably still trying to fit in. You should be more understanding."

Hitsugaya's shoulders slumped and he sighed with defeat, uttering a tired "fine" under his breath. Matsumoto's face immediately lost any signs of seriousness and she beamed, reaching to rub his forearm lovingly.

"You have fun. I'll go see if I can find some good booze and a few handsome guys."

Hitsugaya goggled with surprise at that statement and was about to object but before he could even open his mouth to do so, she was gone from his sight, leaving him to stand there stupidly. He growled through his gritted teeth and was about to start cursing his decision to attend this party, when someone poked his shoulder and cup was shoved in his face.

"I got you orange juice." Ichigo said apologetically as the other boy turned around to face him. "I just thought you didn't look like the kind of guy who would drink alcohol. But tell me if I'm wrong, I'll go get you another one!"

"No." Hitsugaya shook his head, his features cleansed by a subtle look of surprise as he glanced down at the liquid. "That's pretty much me."

"You seem a little surprised?"

"It's just that… most people would grab the chance and fill my cup with alcohol to the brim if they were you." This time the strawberry was sure that he saw the edges of prodigy's lips twitch to curve up slightly. The taller teen grinned, his habit of rubbing the back of his head kicking in again as he gazed down at the person before him with a kind of cautiousness.

"Sooo…" the strawberry began again, shifting his weight from one leg to another. "What do you think about the party?"

Hitsugaya chuckled humorlessly against the orange juice he was sipping and removed the brim of the cup from his lips, raising an incredulous brow at the other student.

"Do I look like your classical party monster?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

"I have trouble coping with the stuffy rooms that reek of sweaty bodies and strange drunk people, aiming to pinch my bottom. " Hitsugaya pointed out condescendingly, making his way to the nearest wall to lean against it with his ankles crossed. Ichigo shoved his hands in his pockets and approached the boy, a curious expression settling upon his face as he examined the shorter, lither figure.

"What you mean is that you have trouble _relaxing_." The strawberry suggested, raising his brows provocatively. Toushiro's eyes narrowed in a glower.

"_What_?"

Ichigo chuckled at the way the boy's features contorted in an indignant grimace but continued anyway:

"You're stiff. Starchy. Don't know how to have fun."

"I _know_ how to have fun."

Another chuckle.

"Really? It looks to me that you don't. And you like showing the others that you don't." Ichigo's lips curved into a knowing smirk at the way Hitsugaya's eyes widened ever so slightly with a sort of angry disbelief. "It's a nice act you're pulling off. Everybody else are boring, everybody are stupid, frivolous, annoying… That way no one gets to see your weak points. It's all pretty clear to me – you're just afraid that someone might get right. Under. Your. Skin."

Hitsugaya's face was now becoming slightly flushed, his breathing quickening as he tried to keep himself from flying into a temper.

"I never asked about your opinion!" the boy barked.

"I never gave you one. It's pretty much a fact to me." Ichigo replied, shrugging casually as he watched the boy's eyes darken.

"You can't tell me what I'm like, you don't know _anything_ about me!" Hitsugaya snapped, pushing himself away from the wall and standing right in front of the other student, teal orbs glowing with anger and irritation.

"Do I need to?" Kurosaki asked, not moving an inch, despite the now almost disturbing closeness between their bodies. "I mean, look at you! Your stance, your tone, your attitude…"

"What about it?" Hitsugaya hissed, teeth bared as he made one final step forward, his face now inches away from Ichigo's. The carrot top's smirk faded to a warm smile as he added with surprising softness.

"It just says it all to whoever is willing to listen."

The first thing that caught Toushiro completely off guard was the gentle tone the other guy to put an end to the conversation. Only then did the meaning sink in and Hitsugaya felt his features relax.

_He wasn't trying to push me over the edge… _the prodigy realized, blinking rapidly a couple of times as if he could not believe the thought had come to _his own_ mind. The two fell silent for a few long moments, their eyes locked at each other in an intense gaze until finally, the smaller boy averted his gaze and cleared his throat, forcing Ichigo to snap back to reality. The carrot top stepped back and reached with one hand to rub the back of his head awkwardly:

"Sooo… Do you wanna go for a walk?" Kurosaki suggested hopefully. Hitsugaya snorted, a stubborn expression appearing on his face as he drank the rest of the orange juice and placed the cup on the nearest cupboard.

"I don't think so. Instead, I'm going to show you that I _can_ have fun." He took a deep breath and walked pass the taller teen, grabbing him by the arm on his way. "C'mon. Let's go find Rangiku."

It didn't take them much time to find Matsumoto as she had gathered almost half of the guests around herself on the other side of the room and they were currently discussing different types of alcohol, while also sampling them.

"Toushiro!" she exclaimed and waved her hand frantically as she spotted her friend. "Over here! We were just about to start playing "Truth or Dare"."

Hitsugaya glanced at Ichigo before walking towards the circle of people sitting on the floor and occupying a small space. A moment later the strawberry had taken a place beside the boy, a tiny victorious smirk playing on the carrot top's lips.


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: AN UPDATE! Yay! I'm so happy you guys reviewed my previous chapter, it meant a lot to me. I hope you keep reviewing, so I know what you liked and what you didn't. Btw, I'm planning to write an M-rated one-shot, probably a lemon and I want to know if you will read it and if yes, what pairing you want? I'm torn between HitsuIchi and HitsuGin. Up to you!_**

* * *

As Matsumoto continued calling other people to the circle, successfully turning the small group into a full-fledged crowd, Ichigo couldn't help it but notice the way Hitsugaya's hands suddenly grabbled the hem of his shirt, jamming the material to a creasy ball in his small palm. The strawberry lifted his eyes to the captain's face, brow arching with a sort of curiosity:

"Are you nervous?" Kurosaki asked and Toushiro's jade eyes snapped in his direction for a particle of the second only to return to their previous occupation of staring forward darkly.

"No." Hitsugaya replied stubbornly, lips twisting in a distasteful way. "Why do you say that?"

Ichigo was about to retort but quickly gave up, seeing as a dispute like this wasn't going to lead to anything but the prodigy's further annoyance and most probably permanent disdain towards the carrot-top. Kurosaki then averted his gaze and propped himself on his hands, eyeing the newly arrived participants with only half-interest until he spotted a familiar tuft of red-hair emerging from the group.

Renji didn't look completely hammered – which was good – he looked only just drunk enough to let his inhibitions crumble away blithely for a reluctant morning return. Ichigo noticed that was the case with about two thirds of the students who had decided to play, most probably encouraged by the fascinating mix of elated giddiness and innate flair for trouble. In less then a minute there were so many people wanting to join, that the music was turned down to moderate volume (according to the mutual wishes) and Matsumoto stood in the middle of the circle, clapping her hands above her head to get everyone's attention.

"Now, we all know the rules, there's no need to explain them, right?" she asked, receiving a wild hoot of agreement that made Hitsugaya cringe. "All I'm asking is that there are no dares that include going out of the house. We don't want the police to come and ruin the fun, do we?" More cheering. "Okay, then, everyone, let's get started."

Matsumoto then gave Toushiro a furtive wink of encouragement before sitting down, the action effectively summoning a small smile on the prodigy's face.

_You'll be fine. _She mouthed as she puckered her lips in a childish pout. _Relax._

Toushiro sighed wearily but nodded, letting go of his now permanently rumpled up shirt.

The few turns of the game were boring as everyone just chose truth and revealed stuff about themselves that weren't exactly fascinating or unexpected. Ichigo spent the time in a sort of a drowsy state, drifting in a blissful reverie about series of random topics, all of them curiously twirling to end up in deems over Hitsugaya's extraordinary persona. Each time Kurosaki caught himself stealing glances at the slim figure beside him, thoughts rambling over the nicely etched muscles underneath the thin material, he cursed himself silently and channeled his musings in another direction. A direction that was irrevocably bound to bend back to the captain.

That was when Hitsugaya decided it was a good moment to change his posture, propping himself on just one hand he placed behind his back, his head cocking casually to a side to reveal a very white and very much flawless side of his slender neck for too many sinful eyes to admire. Ichigo almost whined out loud. Almost.

"Dammit…" the strawberry uttered under his breath, screwing his eyes shut at the sight. He could not deny it. He had been so physically attracted to the kid since the very first day he had see Hitsugaya, it was actually _painful_. Not to mention troublesome – he still had his common sense and was well aware that once he was done with the whole bet thing, he'd have to kiss any remains of "attraction" goodbye.

But that couldn't be so hard, Ichigo mused, tilting his own head to a side as he let his eyes glide across the beautiful yet too demurely revealed piece of skin in front of him. It couldn't be and it wouldn't be, because it was more than obvious that his whole interest in the kid was nothing but the carrot-top's hormones whining and kicking. Hitsugaya was a difficult person and you didn't have to be a child prodigy to see that – no one, in a lifetime of endless loving and affection, would ever be capable of enduring that militant attitude and biting tongue for long.

A twinge of guilt sprang into Ichigo's head as he caught the last thought and let the exact weight of what he was trying to persuade himself sink in.

_No_. He thought, shaking his head with a nuance of anger. _It's not like I'll exactly hurt him… Toushiro's not the kind of guy who would get emotionally involved anyway. _

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Hitsugaya murmured irritably, running his free hand over his face with boredom. "This is pointless."

Ichigo almost laughed.

_It's all a mathematical equation for him._

His attention was drawn back to the game when Hisagi turned to Renji with a half-hidden mischievous smirk. Considering Abarai's state, no one was really surprised when the red-head let out an uproarious laughter and picked dare, causing a wave of cheering to emit from the slightly bored crowd.

For a moment Shuhei seemed in deep thought, his index finger chucking his chin lazily, but just as quickly the expression was gone, replaced by a sly, overbearing one.

"French-kiss the person you like the most in the room." Hisagi said and the group was suddenly more than elated. Ichigo couldn't help it but cringe at the explosion of half-mocking, half-hopeful suggestion-screaming, aimed at the red-head. At first Renji looked completely lost, his half-mashed brain probably experiencing certain difficulties in processing the newly-arrive information, but then a huge grin appeared on his face and he rubbed his hands together like a thief, preparing to strike.

Ichigo's peripheral vision sensed peculiar movement by his side and he frowned.

"Oh, Gooood…" Hitsugaya drawled with a hint of irritation, causing the carrot top to eye him quizzically. Ichigo was just preparing to ask what the white-haired student meant, but the thought was wiped out from his mind for good as Renji rushed towards the captain, capturing the pale lips in a kiss.

The room fell silent. Kurosaki stared dumbly, mouth agape and eyes goggling at the scene that was unfolding a meter away from him. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. His first _friend_ here, the guy, who had dragged him into this bet, had had a thing for the prodigy all along?

_No. WAY!_

Renji reached with one hand to hold the back of the white-haired boy's head and Ichigo almost chocked.

_WAAAY! _

He half-expected Hitsugaya to pull away wildly and maybe punch the red-head in the face, but the boy did no such thing. Instead, much to everybody's shock, Toushiro tilted his head to a side, eyes fluttering shut as he returned the kiss. The action was casual, almost lazy, yet the nearly imperceptible moan that came from Renji's side, sent a hot, stinging feeling to corrode the inside of Kurosaki's chest.

A painful forever later, they broke apart, the red-head panting softly as he pulled back, wide-eyed and flushed.

"Wow." Was all he could utter, the crowd around them still silent. Toushiro merely cleared his throat and reached with one hand to fix the hair the taller teen had so unwarily ruffled. The action pulled Renji back to reality and to a more sober state as his face suddenly turned anxious. "Captain… Are you mad?"

Hitsugaya arched a brow graciously at the question, his index finger now running casually underneath his lower lip to gather some excessive moisture. Other than his now very much lusciously swollen mouth, he looked utterly unperturbed as he eyed Abarai up and down.

"Don't you use that whiny voice on me, Abarai." The prodigy scolded as he inhaled deeply. "Being kissed by someone isn't usually a reason to get upset." Hitsugaya's lips twisted in a devilish grin as he added. "But don't get your hopes up. I'm just playing the game by the rules. Remember that when you come for a football practice on Monday."

There was loud cheering again but Ichigo didn't notice. So Renji was in the football team, huh? Another thing the red-head had forgotten to mention.

As Abarai stood up and headed back to his place on the opposite side of the circle, Kurosaki caught an eye of him mouthing a furtive "Bet's still on." to him and grunted.

"Your turn, Renji." Rangiku pointed out, her hands folded neatly in front of her chest as she threw her best friend a smug look that he didn't miss to return. In the meanwhile, the red-head finished receiving encouraging pats on his back and turned to face Toushiro once more.

"Captain Hitsugaya, truth or dare?" the red-head drawled with a rather stupid grin plastered on his face in a sort of pathetic attempt to appear confident and maybe a little overbearing. Toushiro sighed, propping himself idly on one arm again as he eyed the taller student with boredom.

"You're terribly predictable, Abarai, but oh, please, dare me, I'd like to see what you can think of." Hitsugaya enunciated evenly, eyelids dropping with discernible weariness. Much to Ichigo's bafflement, even a demeanor like this looked strikingly alluring and exquisite when he was the one employing it.

_This boy is like a goddamn decoy and he doesn't even try! _

The dare wasn't anything original – all Toushiro needed to do was drink three shots of tequila on ex. The boy's reaction to that was a mere shake of the head as he took a triad of shot-glasses and lined them up on the floor in front of him, promptly pouring even amounts of alcohol in them.

"The only reason you're asking for this is because you idiots from the team know how I get when I'm drunk…" Hitsugaya uttered under his breath and Ichigo's brows rose involuntarily with the pricking curiosity as several variations of what this could mean rushed through his head.

"Kurosaki, was it?" Toushiro said, interrupting the string of thoughts. The boy's jade eyes were still locked on the glasses in an almost-glare as he licked a spot on his hand and sprinkled some salt on the wet skin.

"Ichigo."

"It was a rhetorical question. I don't plan on calling you by your first name." he paused. "Will you do me a favor, Kurosaki, and make sure I don't go too far with the drinking? "

Ichigo didn't even have the chance to finish his nod as Toushiro had already licked the salt off his hand, devoured the first shot and was proceeding to do the same with the next two. In a second it was all over, the glasses were empty and a slightly more frownish than usual Hitsugaya was fighting to chase away the burning feeling in his mouth and throat.

"Great!" he exclaimed, pushing the glasses to a side as he fixed his gaze on the red-head who had invented the dare. "Renji, truth or dare?"

"Oh, come on, Toushiro, it's not just the two of you playing!" Matsumoto whined and the white-haired boy threw her an amused look.

"Technically, it's just him daring me and me returning the favor, Rangiku." He berated her and she rolled her pale blue eyes, gesturing to him to continue. Hitsugaya let a half-smirk twist his lips before redirecting his gaze to the red-head and urging the latter to answer with an upward nod.

"I'd rather have truth." Renji admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. It was easy to say the red-head wasn't in for a revenge act from the prodigy's side. Much to everybody's surprise, however, the pin-sized student blew a tress of hair from his eyes lazily to reveal an omniscient glimmer in those jade orbs.

"Just as I expected. I have just one question to ask." Ichigo noticed with little surprise that the crowd suddenly fell silent, all stares locked on the prodigy with inquisitive that lacked all nuances of good-heartedness. "On the scale of 1 to 10, how well do I kiss?"

A roar of laughter emitted from the group, so loud and feral that Kurosaki almost didn't hear the red-head answer.

"I'd be lying through my teeth if I said anything less than 11." Abarai replied and Hitsugaya cracked a smirk, shrugging his shoulders in mock modesty. The laughter got even louder, a good amount of it now coming from Kurosaki's side.

"That was such a waste of a question, Captain." Kyouraku's voice came from somewhere behind Matsumoto's back and Ichigo spotted the vaguely familiar man elbow his way to the strawberry-haired woman with two glasses and a bottle of alcohol. "Everybody knows you and Rangiku would get at least 10 if-…"

"Shut it, Kyouraku, you're disparaging my furtive bragging here." Hitsugaya rebuffed, smirk still present on his face.

"Ichigo!" Renji's voice cut through the noisy, snapping the strawberry back to the game. "We haven't corrupted _you_, yet, how about it? Truth or dare?"

Kurosaki chuckled nervously, reaching with one hand to rub the back of his head thoughtfully.

"I'd rather have truth…" he mumbled, fearful of what the not-so-sober man's mind could invent to amuse everybody and humiliate the carrot-top in this sort of state. At least thinking of a question was a more elaborated task for someone who had drank.

Renji made a face at his friend's choice, reaching with one hand to rub his brows with the effort of focusing. A small guttural chuckle sounded next to Ichigo, catching the carrot-top's attention.

"You can lie, if you like. You're new, no one will know. And even if they find out later, it's forgivable not to tell the truth on the first party you attend after being enrolled in a new school." Hitsugaya susuratted, the sides of his lips still tugging in a smile. Ichigo blinked.

"I don't have anything to hide."

Toushiro chuckled again, more bitterly this time, as he absently reached with one hand to pour himself another shot of tequila.

"That's what they all say…" the boy muttered, brows arching impassively. Ichigo couldn't help it but scowl at the reticent expression on the other boy's face.

"But I really mean it."

Hitsugaya's jade eyes slithered to the pair of persevering chocolate ones and for a moment there was just silence. Ichigo didn't dare move, blink or breath, his whole head had gone completely blank under the strong, ardent gaze that weighted a thousand tons more than anything he had ever experienced. He could feel those expressive, yet piercing orbs saber their way through his soul in search for a confirmation to the solid distrust, ingrained long ago in the boy's mind and heart. The strawberry's face began to heat, his urge to look away growing more and more pressing with every passing second, but he constrained himself to stand his ground by all costs. Finally, Toushiro's lids dropped half-way and he nodded, more to himself than to the strawberry and looked away.

"Maybe you do. I don't know. I don't know you." Hitsugaya admitted with another shrug, his voice much softer this time. Ichigo's frown deepened and he opened his mouth, planning to say something, but was cut off when Renji called his name again.

"I'm having some difficulty here with, um, the construction of a question, so I'm going for the traditional type of truths." The red-head pointed out as he raised his index finger and cleared his throat. "Soo, Ichigo, are you a virgin?"

"No." the carrot-top replied quickly, not giving the others the chance to get curious about it.

"You're not?" Hitsugaya asked, surprise clear in his voice. Ichigo shook his head.

"But sometimes I wish I was. It happened when I was pretty drunk sooo… I wouldn't say it was the most memorable experience." The carrot-top explained with an almost rueful smile. Hitsugaya frowned and was about to continue his questioning when a familiar figure popped beside him and Kyouraku shoved two double-sized shots of something under his face.

"I really shouldn't…"

"Aw, come on! You're so much more fun when you are moderately drunk! And besides, you're already heading that way…" Kyouraku whined, shaking the content of the glasses in what was supposed to be a tempting manner.

"I'm so not! I'm perfectly sober!" Hitsugaya objected, folding his hands in front of his chest stubbornly.

"Then two more won't do anything to you."

Ichigo didn't have the chance to hear the rest of the argument, for several impatient people began urging him to pick somebody and continue the game. The carrot top sighed, not really in the mood for doing so. He didn't know most of the people here and those he did know, he didn't want to offend. It was a pretty damn fucked up situation.

"Come oooon!" someone whined next to his ear and Ichigo screwed his eyes shut of a minute in attempt to figure out what to do.

_Pick Toushiro. _A small voice inside his mind commanded._  
_

"Ok, everybody, um…"

_Pick Toushiro!_

"Rangiku, was it?" the strawberry asked, squinting at the endowed girl in difficulty to remember her name.

"That's me!" she chirped, smiling at him encouragingly. "And I go for dare."

Ichigo blinked. He was baffled. If she had picked truth, he could've thought of something stupid to ask her, but nothing fascinating came to his mind at the other option. He made a face, urging his brain to work but after a minute of desperation he realized it was useless and gave up.

"Just… do something interesting." He finished lamely. Matsumoto pouted.

"That's stupid."

Ichigo almost shouted when suddenly Hitsugaya jumped on his feet, rubbing his palms together in a wily manner.

"I can do something interesting!" he announced and the unnatural grin on his faced told the strawberry Kyouraku had somehow succeeded in his task.

"This is going to be an interesting night." Ichigo murmured as he shook his head absently.

* * *

**_PLEASE review!_**


	6. Chapter 6

_Wow… _Ichigo thought, pretty sure he was gawking regardless of his efforts. _Wow! _He thought again, staring down at his opened palm and what was lying innocently in its middle. If the kid could do _this _with the stem of a cherry, who knew what else he could do with his tongue…

_Time out! Time out! _Wrong train of thoughts. Totally screwed up train of thoughts. _Stop! For all intents and purposes, STOP THINKING!_

Well, come to think of it, all remains of any _thought_ whatsoever had vanished _poof!_ at the mere sight of Hitsugaya dangling the cherry over his lips and lowering it slowly into his mouth. Next thing Ichigo remembered was goggling pointedly at the small knot of the fruit's stem, lying ever so comfortably in the middle of his hand.

_I will not eat a single cherry in my life ever again without thinking it's perverted…_

Matsumoto's genuine laughter cut through his daze and his eyes shot up to meet the girl's beaming blue orbs.

"Try not to gape too much." She admonished him with an amicable wink. "It's not as difficult as it looks."

"It's _very_ elaborated." Hitsugaya rebutted immediately, before turning around on his heel to face Kyouraku. "Do you think we have martini? And olives, you know how I love the olives…"

The taller man's face elated by the inquiry and he nodded towards the bar.

"That's the spirit, mah boy, let's find you some olives." And with that the two disappeared from sight, ignoring the crowd's loud groan of disappointment and Ichigo's still quite peculiar gawking. Matsumoto, too, stood up, dusting her clothes off and grinned.

"We'll be back." She promised the group with another trademark wink before making her way across the circle of people and after her two friends. Ichigo watched her go and felt a sort of dull dispiritedness settle into his stomach. Those were the populars, he realized, Toushiro and Rangiku and that funny guy with them, those were the people around which the whole school revolted. If he didn't get accepted into that group his chances with the football captain were slim to none. Demolishing. Nix. Negative quantity.

He shook his head once with a throaty growl, his brows burrowing into a scowl. How was he supposed to elbow is way into the highest layer in the school hierarchy? He had always considered popularity a state of mind, rather than something you actually achieve. You feel popular, you become popular, you just know what to do. You either have it in you or not – laws of nature. And Ichigo had never considered himself one of the blessed ones, nor had he wanted to be because he felt comfortable enough in his own skin without having his peers stare after him as he passed them by and then gossip relentlessly behind his back.

"Yo, orange punk!" Matsumoto's voice reached him and his ears perked up as he noticed her waving her hand above her head energetically. "You're coming or not?"

He paused for a second, too boggled by the invitation to move, then glanced swiftly over his shoulder just in case.

_No orange punks here_.

His gaze drifted back to the endowed girl. A small part of him let out a disgruntled moan at the fact it was the her fetching him rather than Toushiro, but Kurosaki quickly quenched the thought, mentally mauling it until there was nothing left.

"Don't you look jovial." Ichigo acknowledged with a raise of his brow as he nudged his way through the circle of drunk bodies towards her and her impatiently tapping food. Matsumoto gathered her hands behind her back and giggled like a little girl.

"You seem like a nice guy, orange punk." She pointed out with a waft of playfulness in her voice as she jabbed a finger in his shoulder. He blinked, staring down at her digit.

"I do? I mean, I am… I mean…" he paused, noticing the treacherous glimmer in her eyes. "What… what are you planning to do to me... now that I confessed?"

The look was gone just as quickly as it had appeared as the girl burst into howls of laughter, nudging the new student with her elbow.

_Weird chick…_

"Um… I'm officially unsure of what to think." Kurosaki murmured, staring dumbly at Rangiku, who was showing some particular difficulties with catching her breath. It took her a few more seconds to calm down and after she did, she inhaled deeply one last time before smiling reassuringly at the carrot-top.

"Orange punk…"

"My name is Ichigo."

"Ichigo." She agreed, nodding to herself. "As I said, you seem like a pretty nice guy. Your kind, however, is sadly heading towards extinction… as you may have noticed. Hence, me and Kyouraku are running a preserving campaign which includes offering you our genuine friendship."

Ichigo wasn't completely sure whether the girl's reasons were nearly as pure as she attempted to make them seem, but he nodded nevertheless, not wanting to miss the opportunity that was so fortunately presenting itself to him.

"So," Matsumoto continued, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and spinning him slowly so he was now looking at the bar. "Before we go and have fun over _there_" she gestured towards their aim carelessly "There're a few things you need to know."

"Such as?"

"You know our Toushiro you've been ogling all night?"

"I haven't-…" Ichigo tried but she clamped her palm over his mouth impatiently, ignoring the annoyed half-muffled grunt that came from the teen's direction.

"Don't interrupt a lady." She warned him, brandishing the finger of her other hand in front of his face almost menacingly. "As I was _saying_, our Toushiro that _you_'ve been ogling all night doesn't usually allow himself to loosen up."

"Really? He doesn't strike me as such person." Kurosaki replied sarcastically once his mouth was released. Matsumoto ignored him.

"So once he does, we like to keep him blithely oblivious of the little slips he does. That includes days, months and years after the event."

"What does he do?" Ichigo asked suspiciously. Rangiku shrugged, wrinkling her nose as if it would help her remember some rotting example.

"At first he just drinks a few glasses and nothing happens. Then he starts drinking more and more… You'd be surprised how well he can hold his liquor… Anyway, he has this little… um, how do I say this?... this little peculiarity… he starts talking a lot. About… um…" she giggled again, her eyes staring dreamily in the distance as she recalled some past joy. "Well, you'll see."

Ichigo didn't have enough time to feel bemused as he was suddenly dragged forward and towards the bar. Behind the counter there stood Kyouraku, examining the label on the back of some bottle and discussing the written with Hitsugaya who was currently sitting on a tall chair on the opposite side, teal eyes focused on an empty glass.

"Seems ok." Came Shunsui's verdict and Toushiro let out an exasperated sigh before pushing his glass towards the taller man.

"I thought you were never gonna say that. Did you find any olives?"

"I think they're all eaten but there must be lemons under the counter to the right." Matsumoto cut into the conversation, pushing Ichigo by the shoulders to sit next to the white-haired boy before pulling a chair for herself and sitting down a reasonable distance from both of them. Toushiro didn't seem to noticed any of it, too rapt in the sight of Kyouraku pouring the content of the bottle in four lined up glasses. The drinks found their owners a mere second after Shunsui had placed the bottle down and a Kurosaki couldn't help it but smirk when he noticed the half-surprised, half-curious look on the captain's face as the boy followed the hand that took the fourth glass, up to the annoyingly grinning face of the carrot-top.

"Bottoms up?" Matsumoto suggested with a disarming smile.

"Bottoms up!" Kyouraku agreed and the two clacked they glasses together before drinking. Ichigo, who had barely taken a small sip of his own beverage, just stared stupidly for a moment before shifting his gaze to Hitsugaya only to see the boy was already pouring himself more.

"I was supposed to keep you from getting drunk…" the taller teen pointed out carefully. Hitsugaya just rolled his eyes, reaching over the counter to take the piece of lemon that Kyouraku was handing him.

"I relieve you from that responsibility." He murmured before letting the lemon slice fall in his glass and splash some drops of alcohol on the inner walls. "Do you know that despite the common belief alcohol does not destroy brain cells. In fact, the moderate consumption of alcohol is often associated with improved cognitive functioning."

Ichigo blinked, sincerely baffled by how well the boy could express himself despite the hazed over look in his teal eyes.

"No, no I didn't know that."

"Why am I surprised…" Hitsugaya huffed, taking a generous sip of his drink. "You don't seem like the kind of guy who knows a lot of things anyway…"

"Toushiro!" Matsumoto reprimanded him indignantly and that appeared to summon some sense in the boy's head as the captain turned in his chair so he could face Ichigo.

"Oh, right. Rangiku says I shouldn't offend you, cuz you're new and stuff." Hitsugaya confessed candidly, ignoring the way his female friend was flailing her hands about behind the carrot-top's back. "She says I should be nice to idiots like you, since I had such a hard time fitting in when I first came."

"Oh?" Ichigo uttered dryly. Hitsugaya shrugged.

"Do you know" the captain continued, crossing his legs lazily. "that the French call hangover "wooden mouth"?"

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Matsumoto bite her lower lip in attempt to stifle a raising guffaw. Next to her Kyouraku mouthed a resigned 'Here we go…' before beginning to nip absently on the soft part of his lemon slice.

"Another interesting fact" Toushiro carried on, blissfully ignorant of his friends' behavior. "is that Greek people ate cabbages in order to cure said hangover."

"Cabbages?" Ichigo choked out. On what kind of twisted principle was this kid's brain working?

"They thought it was useful." Hitsugaya agreed, devouring half of what was left in his glass. "But they can't beat the Haitians who stuck 13 black-headed needles into the cork of the bottle they drank from."

_Flood of weird, useless facts? Is this what Rangiku was talking about?_

"Tell him about the occupation hazards." Kyouraku urged the white-haired boy. Toushiro's vague eyes lit up at the thought and he almost smiled.

"Oh, right. Do you know which is the most dangerous profession?"

"Police officers?" Ichigo tried but the other male quickly shook his head, disappointment clear on his face.

"The most percentage of casualties were estimated with woodmen who died or were injured by 'falling objects'." Hitsugaya informed him flatly before finishing his drink and stretching his now empty glass over to Kyouraku. "I need another one."

Ichigo's hand immediately snatched forward, covering the glass with his palm.

"Trust me, you don't." the strawberry asserted, pouring all of his convincing skills into one nervous smile. Hitsugaya frowned, trying fruitlessly to unclasp the taller male's hand from what he currently considered his property.

"You don't know _anything_. Why should I trust you?"

"Oh, Ichigo, don't stop him _now_, he hasn't even started talking about sex yet." Matsumoto whined, pulling lightly on the carrot-top's shirt to temporarily capture his attention. Ichigo's eyes widened before snatching towards the boy once more.

"You should _really_ stop drinking!" Kurosaki insisted, nodding fervently.

"I don't want to! And besides, you should take advantage and learn what you can. I would, if I had your poor general knowledge about things."

The statement almost made Ichigo grab the bottle from Kyouraku's hand and stuff it in the boy's face but he resisted the urge with all his might, returning Toushiro's only half-focused glare.

"If I let you tell me one more interesting fact that I assure you I will remember for the rest of my life, will you stop drinking?"

Hitsugaya's features softened and his lips twisted in a sly smirk.

"Only if you answer me one question on the matter after that." He offered. Immediately, Matsumoto was standing next to Ichigo, her hand squeezing the carrot-top's shoulder almost painfully.

"You should _not_ make deals with him in his state." She whispered urgently into his ear, her fingernails now digging into his skin even through the clothing. Ichigo ignored her, his brows set into a decisive frown as he released the glass and pulled back with a small nod.

"Shoot."

The chuckle that emitted from the football captain's lips was almost eerie.

"The penalty for masturbation in Indonesia is decapitation." Hitsugaya enunciated with surprising clearness as he pulled back lazily and crossed his hands over his chest. "How many times would you have been decapitated for the past week if you were in Indonesia?"

Ichigo blanched, his mouth falling open as his brain glitched pathetically in its attempts to comprehend the question. Next to him Matsumoto lowered her head gravely, walking back to her place on the other side of the counter.

"Um…" Kurosaki began, disliking the way the other boy's lips continued curling upward ever so slowly to widen the smirk. Hitsugaya didn't seem nearly as drunk as a moment before as if being mean had suddenly purged out all the alcohol from his system. The thought made Ichigo's insides boil and he cursed himself for not listening to the endowed girl. Was there any correct answer to the cranky midget's question anyway?

One option was, of course denial. But most kids these days didn't buy it - the whole tactic would only make it seem more suspicious. Next came silence, but experience reminded Ichigo that not answering would make him seem like he was covering for his uncontrollable libido, while just naming numbers was just plain horrible.

"Sorry to interrupt," Kyouraku's voice came as he lower his gaze deliberately to the glass he was filling. "But the Creep just showed up."

Hitsugaya's eyes shot towards the door, teal orbs focusing on the familiar lean figure before coming back to land on Matsumoto.

"I thought you said he wasn't coming!" Toushiro hissed, turning around completely so his back was now facing Ichimaru. It was Matsumoto's turn to pale as she swallowed with difficultly, fixing her gaze to the counter.

"He wasn't supposed to come, I heard he was going out of town."

"Well, obviously he isn't!" Hitsugaya snapped back, his clenched fist now against his right brow as he tried to squeeze some sense into his brain. "_Fuck_! I need to get out of here."

"You should stay." Kyouraku cut him off firmly. "You can't decamp every event he happens to show up on. Imagine how good you make him feel for being able to affect you like this."

Hitsugaya squeezed his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip as he tried to collect his thoughts. Ichigo watched the boy fight to overcome his distress, all other occupations forgotten and the carrot-top's own features hardened as he glanced over at the source of the small muss. Ichimaru Gin was standing near the front door right across the room, with a can of beer in his hand and was currently chatting lightly with a bunch of half-sober teens. Despite the innocent setting however, Ichigo didn't fail to notice that the fox-face's amused gaze was directed at the captain's dense form.

"Toushiro, you ok?" Kurosaki asked softly, his hand landing bluntly on the smaller boy's shoulder, causing the captain to stiffen even more.

"I'm _fine_." Hitsugaya hissed, reaching to push the larger hand off of him only to pause half-way, when he saw the horror-stricken expression on Matsumoto's face. "What?"

"He's coming this way." She whispered before grabbing Kyouraku's arm and pushing the man urgently to the right. "We should go. _Now_." She glanced at her shorter friend apologizing. "Are you-…?"

He stood still for one short second, then shook his head abruptly.

"I'll catch up with you later." He declined in a tone that would accept no defiance. "You go."

Matsumoto pause for a moment, then nodded with understanding and disappeared with Kyouraku somewhere to the back of the room. The boy then sighed, sitting up straight and turning to the strawberry whose hand was still resting on the captain's shoulder.

"Get off that chair."

Ichigo quickly did as he was told, too confused as to object and stood between the still sitting Hitsugaya and the approaching Ichimaru.

"What's going on?" the carrot-top asked and Toushiro sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise. Just please _play_ along!" he uttered softly and before Ichigo had had any time to comprehend the happening, he was harshly pulled into a kiss.

The first thing that his brain registered was the warmth and the exquisite, incredibly gentle smell that engulfed him. After that came the careful, yet surprisingly experienced lips and tongue that were moving against his own, soothing him to respond.

His heart skipped a beat.

Next thing he knew, he was kissing the boy back, eagerly, ardently, as if his life depended on it. Toushiro's tongue felt warm and at the same time slightly cooler than supposed to be, he tasted of something sweet and spicy, the mild favor of liquor adding a challenging nuance to the mix. Slender fingers buried into the strawberry's orange tuft of hair, teeth nipping teasingly on his lips as the boy withdrew only an inch away to catch his breath. In a second their mouths crashed again, the kiss gradually deepening and Ichigo's arms wrapped around the slender waist, fingers massaging the small of Hitsugaya's back.

_Fuck, kid, this is…just fuck!_

Hitsugaya's eyes slid open, his hands and mouth still mechanically working as he looked past Ichigo's cheekbones and straight at Ichimaru, who was currently standing just about four meters away from them, staring impassively at the scene before him. The trademark grin was gone, the can in the fox-face's hand crushed through the middle by the painfully tightened fist around it.

'_We'll see about that, pet_.' Gin mouthed silently before turning around on his heel and disappearing from sight. Hitsugaya barely resisted the urge to smirk to himself as he fluttered his eyes shut and enjoyed the rest of the kiss.

* * *

**_A/N: Sorry if it didn't turn out so well... I didn't have much time this week, I was feeling a bit sick, too. I'll try to make it up to you with the next chapter. There'll be some serious drama there. :) _**

**_I'd be really happy if any of you read "Bookstore" (in case you haven't) which I plan on updating soon. Or "Behind Frozen Doors" which was the one-shot I had promised you last time I updated this story. :) _**

**_Please review and tell me what you think. ^^  
_**


	7. Chapter 7

"More sugar." Pause. "More sugar." Pause. "More sugar."

" Is it ok now?"

"Wait… More sugar. Hm… Ok, good." With that Hitsugaya reached indolently for the cup of tea Ichigo was preparing for him and stirred it with a plastic spoon, all the while the strawberry's eyes following his movements incredulously.

"You like your tea _that_ sweet?" Ichigo asked, raising a suspicious brow. Hitsugaya let out an irritated sigh before taking a small sip of his drink and making a disgusted face.

"No, I like it with a spoon and a half."

"Then why-…"

"Tea with lots of sugar helps sobering up, idiot. And I really need to sober up fast."

"Oh…" Ichigo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes following the boy's slightly clumsy movements as he sipped his drink every few seconds or so, hazy eyes glaring daggers at the tasteless liquid. The two of them had withdrawn to the back of the room, choosing the most desolated spot possible and because of Toushiro's obvious incapability to stand and thanks to the carrot-top's helpfulness, two chairs had been dragged from somewhere, along with a sugar-bowl and a cup of tea. The tea Hitsugaya had no idea where it had come from but right now it didn't matter either, for as far as he was concerned its function was by now limited to burning his taste receptors. Nevertheless, the school captain kept engulfing it little by little, like a good kid taking his medicine, while Ichigo gave him silent looks of sympathyр fingers thrumming on the cupboard that he was currently using as a table.

"Kurosaki?" the boy enunciated with genuine difficulty and the taller student blinked.

"Um, yeah?"

"About what I did earlier…" Hitsugaya drawled, frowning as he tried to capture the thoughts that were floating randomly in his head. Ichigo almost chuckled at the expression, a small smirk curving his lips as he propped his elbow on the cupboard and suggested helpfully:

"You mean kissing me to get back at your ex?"

Hitsugaya paused for a moment, probably deciphering the strawberry's words and weighting the truthfulness of the statements, then nodded.

"Yes. I really… well, I owe you one." He snorted under his breath, taking a particularly big gulp of his tea as if it was some sort of a punishment he was intentionally imposing on himself for what he had done. "I hate owing people… favors."

"It's not a problem, really." Ichigo tried but was cut off when the boy next to him let out a low groan and smacked his forehead with his palm a bit too harshly, the impact almost making him fall off the chair backwards.

"Damn… I realized something." A moment to remember what it was, then… "I just fucked your reputation up."

"My reputation?" Ichigo repeated, his lips twisting into an amused smirk. "Why? Because you kissed me?"

"_Because_ you're new here and now everybody will know you as the guy _I used_ in order to pissed Ichimaru off." Hitsugaya blurted out, his frown deepening as the realizations continued dawning on him. "I pissed Ichimaru off? …Damn, I probably won't like the sound of this in the morning."

"Don't you think you're taking things a bit too seriously?"

"Not a bit, that's yet to follow once I come back to my senses." Hitsugaya mumbled, handing his now empty cup to the strawberry. "So then. What do you want?"

Ichigo was caught completely off guard as he stared blankly at the other boy, his brain trying pitifully to decipher the question.

"What do I want?" the carrot-top finally asked, feeling a bit stupid as he did so – that quickly being amplified when Hitsugaya let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes.

"In return. I told you, I don't like owning people anything. So what can I do for you?"

"…What can I ask for?" the carrot-top inquired suspiciously and the smaller male shrugged, stretching his legs forward and crossing his ankles.

"I can't think about that right now, just pick something, dumbass…" Hitsugaya slurred, leaning his head back against the chair and letting his eyelids fall half-way, covering his bleary jade orbs. His usually neat and perfect clothes now looked somewhat rumpled, the cuffs unevenly folded and the top two buttons of his plain white shirt undone, revealing the smooth pale flesh underneath. The carrot-top gulped, surveying the limp frame with the audacity of a man who knew how to pick his best moments to ogle. The ruffled spiky hair, the drowsy gaze and the overall disheveled look of the otherwise spick-and-span prodigy sparked a flame of something peculiar in the ginger-head's chest and a small, wryly smirk formed on Ichigo's lips as an idea popped in his head.

It was a low shot and there was a great chance it wouldn't work, but Hitsugaya was still drunk and the strawberry was feeling rather hazardous after that mind-blowing kissing experience they shared. So he leaned forward and whispered his request in the boy's ear.

A small pause followed, then Toushiro's dim eyes redirected to the taller student, scrutinizing him with suspicion.

"Are you taking advantage of the fact that I'm drunk and I can't comprehend what I'm promising? I really can't tell…" the boy stated bluntly and Ichigo had to bite his lower lip to restrain himself from laughing.

"That would be up to you to decide."

"This is not the best time to be witty…" Hitsugaya sighed, rolling his eyes and reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'll think about it."

Of course, if he thought about it long enough as to sober up, the "no" would be followed by a bunch of profanities, maybe a punch, maybe a slap, maybe a splash of the overly-sweet tea in Ichigo's face... But it wasn't like the carrot-top could take it back now. And of course, there was still some hope, and hope was enough for him, as long as he didn't end up in a trash bin because of it afterwards…

"I'll go return this." Kurosaki announced, standing up with the empty cup of tea and the sugar-bowl. Hitsugaya gave him a vague "ugh-huh" and slumped further into his chair, arms wrapping tightly around his body as if he was afraid they were going to fall off if he kept them hanging by his sides. Throwing one last glance at the boy, Ichigo started to make his way to the kitchen(which he had successfully discovered earlier that night) and as he entered, the first thing he noticed were the bothering traces of cigarette smoke, still lingering in the air. He wrinkled his nose but didn't say anything, realizing that apart from this little drawback, the room was probably the cleanest place in the whole house right now. He then walked pass the ajared door to the back-yard, hardly paying any attention to it, and put the empty cup in the sink and the sugar-bowl on the counter. He was just about to turn around and head back, when a soft click sounded behind his back and a vice-like hand grabbed on his shoulder, spinning him around.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, was it?" the strong scent of alcohol was the first thing that the carrot-top's brain managed to register as he found himself face to face with a very unamused Ichimaru Gin. For a couple of seconds the strawberry proved incapable of speaking as a series of unpleasant shivers ran down his spine and he stifled the urge to push the other man away from himself violently. Too many drunk people in one day and this one he didn't even like.

"Yeah, anything you need from me?" Ichigo asked, eyeing with a hint of exasperation the hand that was continuing to squeeze his shoulder. Ichimaru's lips curled into a blood-freezing grin as he pulled back, nodding unambiguously towards the door to the backyard.

"Le's hav'a lil chat, shall we?" the man suggested, his voice falling from his lips like lukewarm sticky substance. Ichigo immediately knew leaving the house was a bad idea but he didn't object, following the other man outside where the blasting techno music and the possible sources of help were not a problem.

"We're out. Now, what do you want?" Ichigo asked, standing near the house's wall, arms folded before his chest in a slightly challenging manner. Ichimaru let out a small, almost ironic chuckle as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket casually. For a drunk person, he seemed to be quite aware of his movements and the carrot-top realized that fact was somewhat bothersome – because it meant that the alcohol had only resulted in removing some of the fox-face's inhibitions and not hampering him.

"I've been told ya were new 'ere, so I suppose that means ya might not kno' how things work in our school?" Gin suggested, brow arching. "Jus' thought ya might need someone ta tell ya this an' tha'…"

"I think I'm doing perfectly fine so far, thank you." Ichigo replied collectedly. Ichimaru's grin widened a little, though there was no amusement in his expression, no laughter, no nothing.

"'m talkin' bout the kid and ya kno' it."

"Toushiro?"

"Hah… Toushiro? Does he let ya call 'im by his first name? Does he call _you_ by yer first name?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because it does." Ichimaru replied in a manner that would've been a snap rather than a polite statement if it weren't him who was saying it. "Because he doesn' really let anyone do tha'. Anyone _other_ than me."

"What's your point again?"

"Mah point?" Ichimaru's smirk lessened for a moment, his voice contorting into something much more sinister when he opened his mouth to speak again " Tha' boy's not available, so hands off mah property. Understood?"

"Your _property?_" Ichigo repeated, hands dropping by his sides as indignation twisted his features into a disgusted grimace. "Tell me you didn't just refer to Toushiro as a part of your belongings." The small chuckle that escaped the other man's lips made the carrot-top's insides boil with disdain and it took all his willpower to keep from doing anything too rash.

"Ya have spunk. I like tha'." Ichimaru stated, taking the distance between them in a couple of long steps until he was standing so close to the other student that the scent of alcohol hit Ichigo hard in the face once more. "Ya seem to be quite delusional about what ya're getting yerself into, though. Do ya have any idea what I had ta do… how I had ta literally _drag_ tha' boy outta the fuckin' pit he had practically buried himself alive in? He was a wreck tha' kid, and if it weren't fo' me, who knows what would've happen ta him. So dun ya go round blabberin' noble shit bout wha' I can refer to him as and wha' not."

"You seem to be pretty possessive for someone who got dumped." Ichigo pointed out bluntly and before he had had any time to comprehend what was going on, he was shoved up against the wall, a muscular forearm pressed painfully against his throat, successfully cutting off his air supply.

_Oh, shit, that guy is _strong_…_

"I wouldn' be so tough if I were ya." Ichimaru's voice hissed next to his ear. "'m tryin' ta be nice, but ya ain't makin' it too easy fo' me. I might as well kick yer sorry ass fo' wha' ya just said, but I won't. Cuz yer not worth it, punk, yer jus' a small pebble in mah shoe and sooner or later ya won't even be tha'. In the end of the day, I'm gonna be the one who gets ta fuck with Toushiro and ya'll be jus' a vague, forgotten figure in the distance." With that the fox-face withdrew abruptly, letting the other student crush down on the ground and stepped back, reveling in the sight of the coughing carrot-top for a few good seconds, before turning around. "I've warned ya. Hands off wha's mine."

A small half-chocked laughter sounded behind the fox-face's back as Ichigo stumbled to his feet.

"Kick my sorry ass? Dream on, jackass."

What happened the next few second occurred so quickly, that neither of them managed to comprehend completely what, how and why. Once the words were out of Ichigo's mouth, Ichimaru's body tensed, fists clenching tightly as he turned around abruptly and his hand flew towards Kurosaki's face in a mind-blowing speed. The punch was inevitable and the carrot-top knew it, yet he didn't have time to feel scared or even bothered, for the next thing they knew, Gin himself was stumbling backwards, fingers clutching pitifully his bleeding nose as he cursed colorfully under his breath. The strawberry blinked. Then blinked again. A funny noise escaped his lips and he stepped forward, eyes widened as his brain tried to process how come his rival was hit when Ichigo hadn't even moved a muscle?

"Fuckin' shit, what the hell did ya do tha' fo', Toushiro!" Ichimaru snarled, teeth bared at the short boy that was currently standing somewhat unsteadily between the two, rubbing his knuckles indolently.

"Gosh, Gin, you're such an asshole sometimes, that you don't even realize you're an asshole." Hitsugaya snorted, glancing back at Ichigo over his shoulder. "Kurosaki took too long with the returning, I figured something has happened. Should've known you'd be involved."

Then, in a heartbeat, Ichimaru was in front of the boy, his hand was squeezing Toushiro's wrist in vice grip, making the latter flinch almost unnoticeably under the cruel touch.

"So ya heard, huh?"

"I heard you declare me as your belonging, yes." Hitsugaya noted impassively and Ichimaru's lips curved into an ironic smirk.

"Hah, I was tellin' the truth and ya know it, neko. Ya belong with me."

"Ichimaru," the boy began, his voice low and menacing as his body went rigid as a statue. "Let go off me. You are drunk and I don't want to hear your nonsense."

"Ya dun want to hear it? Ya dun want ta be reminded of the old times? Oh, I bet ya dun." he paused, shaking his head as though the scene was sweet in some sick, twisted way " Jus'…Endearin'. 'Ya wanna pretend it never happened, ne? But ya dun need _me_ ta remind ya that it did, _really_, do ya, neko?" With that Ichimaru pulled on the boy's right hand, pushing the sleeve up with one abrupt movement and revealing the inner side of his arm. On four different places between the wrist and the elbow, small round circle scars could be seen, marring the perfect flesh. Cigarette burns. "Ya have these, now. Just as pretty as the last time I saw 'em.

"Dammit, Ichimaru!" Hitsugaya growled, trying to break free from the unyielding grasp. "I fuckin' swear, if you don't let go, you're gonna regret it!"

"I'll regret it?" the fox-face sneered, pulling the smaller one closer. "Are ya tryin' ta push my limits? I promise ya the outcomes won't be very nice."

For a small particle of the second Hitsugaya's body went completely still and Ichigo made a step forward, ready to interfere, but before the strawberry had had any time to do anything whatsoever, Ichimaru was sent flying backwards again, this time landing hard on his ass.

"Fuck!" Toushiro cursed, rubbing his sore knuckles again before turning to the man on the ground, who was currently struggling to sit up. There was a small pause then, the silence almost suffocating as the two ex lovers stared at each other, Gin's hand covering the bleeding nose and the split lower lip and Hitsugaya just standing there and contemplating the scene. When the boy finally spoke up his voice was calm and collected but the disdain contained in his eyes could freeze one's very bones. "You crossed the line, Ichimaru. I'm done with you. For good. And don't bother showing up on practice on Monday, because I'm kicking you out of the team as well."

With that said and done, Hitsugaya turned on his heels and stormed out in the direction of the house, Ichigo hot on his tail.

"Toushiro." the carrot-top called once they were inside. "Wait up, I have to-"

"What do you want, Kurosaki?" Hitsugaya snapped, pausing impatiently with hand on the kitchen's door-knob. Ichigo stopped dead on his track, eyes going wide as he recognized the foreign notch of vulnerability in the prodigy's voice. _What the…? What is this? _

He's brows furrowed into a scowl of disbelief as he made a hesitant step forward, every and each one of his senses trying to send a message to his brain that the latter was stubbornly declining. _Wrong!_ A voice rang in the carrot-top's head over and over again in large, red, glowing letters. _Wrong_, something's _wrong_!

There was a change in Toushiro's posture, small, almost impossible to notice at first, but it was there. His stance was different somehow, disfigured, wretched…

_Crushed_.

"What is it?" Toushiro urged, but the words were breaking and his shoulder were tense, shaking a little despite the boy's efforts. "I need to get going, I need to go home, I-…"

"Toushiro…" Ichigo tried, approaching the shorter student slowly, tentatively, as though any abrupt movement was going to scare him off. For a short second the boy didn't move, then a jolt of some strange emotion made his body cringe.

"DAMMIT, KUROSAKI, STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Hitsugaya screamed, turning around only to find himself in the carrot-tops embrace, strong arms wrapping around him, keeping him still as he tried on and on to break free, yelling, punching, cursing against the solid chest – Ichigo took it all without a single word of complaint, understanding glowing somewhere deep into his chocolate orbs.

"Shh, it's ok, it's ok." Kurosaki kept repeating as he made a step forward, successfully using the door behind Toushiro as an additional obstruction.

"IT IS NOT! IT'S NOT OK, DAMMIT! LET ME GO!" Hitsugaya's hands were trapped uncomfortably between their bodies, yet he kept fighting relentlessly, the remains of the booze and the events of the night getting the best of him.

"I can't do that, but you can keep struggling, that's perfectly fine with me."

"FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU,_ FUCK_ YOU DAMMIT!"

"That's it, let it all out." Ichigo whispered softly. And Hitsugaya did, blabbering nonsense and insults as he fought against the strawberry without truly knowing why, all of his anger, all the wrongs and the regrets, all of them pouring into those useless punches, those bitter shouts and meaningless curses.

An endless couple of minutes later, the carrot-top could finally feel the smaller body's energy begin to wear off as he prodigy's whole being started shaking uncontrollably instead and he slumped into Kurosaki's arms, sobbing quietly into his shirt.

"It's going to be ok. You'll see. Now let me take you home." Ichigo murmured, hands still wrapped about the slim shoulder as he opened the door and led Hitsugaya out of the house, away from curious gazes and away from Ichimaru.

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**_A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews! :) They mean a lot to me and they keep me going, so review again and tell me how this was. ;) Might've been a bit OOC now that I think about it..._**


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N: First of all, I want to thank you all, ALL of you for being with me, for reviewing for everything you do to inspire me and keep me going! Each of you means a lot to me and I hope that I will not disappoint you. :) _**

**_Secondly, Merry Christmas (if a little late for that...) and if we don't see each other till then - Happy New Year! :)_**

**_Thirdly, for everybody who still don't know, I published the sequel to "Behind Frozen Door" so you can go ahead and check it. And review. Please review._**

**_And Finally!... I want to say... that... I'm absolutely fucking terrified from what I've done with this chapter, I'm flushing right this second from NOT knowing, because it's terribly OOC and no matter what I did, it still kept being OOC. *crushes on the ground sobbing* Does anyone have a napkin by chance?_**

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Hitsugaya woke up in his own bed with his right arm gone dead from sleeping on his stomach and on top of it for god knows how long. Propelling himself up with the help of his functioning upper limb and rolling on his back, the prodigy laid almost completely immobile for a couple of minutes, his fingers massaging his numb muscles to speed up the restoration of his disturbed blood circulation. The repulsive feeling of coldness had him shivering as the crimson liquid flowed into his vessels again and about a thousand dull needles poked his skin as he moved his arm experimentally.

Toushiro turned his head to glance tiredly at the clock on his bedside table and after noting it was past 10 in the morning, he exerted his lead-like body into a sitting position. His head began throbbing instantly and he moaned, slender fingers raising to knead his brows cautiously. The pain worked like charm to budge his still sleeping brain, summoning a string of last-night memories into his head, most of them quite vague and indistinct, especially if he had to order them on a timeline. The last scene in the house, however, remained plastered vividly in his mind and he felt his stomach clench at the thought, his knees shifting to press against his chest defensively. He had snapped last night. No, not just _snap_… his ramshackle inner world had literally collapsed into crumbs and dust, bringing down barely poised hopes, cautiously built up dreams and desires he had reached for in his most desperate, dreariest times. It seemed forever since he had known and had apprehended it coming to this. It wasn't so much of a surprise, really, since after all… Ichimaru had long ago ceased being anything other than an idealistic remain of what they had had.

Oh, the beauty of these remnants, these pitiful scraps and their deceitful ways of dulling the forlornness for a particle of the second, just to have it crush right back on the sufferer's trembling heart, the anguish worse than ever. Yes… Hitsugaya had clung to his slivers like a child, refusing to let go of his beliefs in magic and fairy tales and he had bled for it times and times again. He had withstood loving Gin, and he had withstood being abused, and taken advantage of, and lied to, everything. He fathomed the necessity of leaving all of it behind better than anyone…

Yet it still hurt… it hurt _so damn much_ to accept that there was nothing out there for the two of them. Not a single scintilla of hope, not a glint of promise for something to change... It felt like Toushiro's very soul was writhing in agony, screaming, begging as the wretchedness, the loneliness ripped it apart.

The memory flared again, torturing his reason of why and how and what had made him do what he had done. Maybe finally Ichimaru had crossed the line. Maybe he had gone too far, he had dared too much… But no. The fox-face hadn't done anything all that different from what he usually did to fuck with Hitsugaya's feelings. The boy knew it, and Gin had known it, because neither of them had expected this peculiar twist.

What had happened? It was rather plain, really, the little push behind all of it. Last night had been the last drop, the very last pang Toushiro's heart could take. He, the stoic boy genius, had had enough.

He took a deep breath and dangled his legs over the side of the bed, getting up on his wobbly legs. The room tilted dangerously to the side, but he preserved his balance anyway, two fingers resting lightly on his temple.

So this was it. This was him scratching Gin's name, moving on, letting go. He was finally free to do and feel as he wished, as he decided…

Freedom? Huh… _Freedom_...

So why the fuck did freedom feel so damn narrow and suffocating all of a sudden?

Hitsugaya dragged his feet across the room with a grumble and only on the door did he notice he was still in his old underwear. The pair of dull gray boxers was the only thing that kept him from complete nakedness, with the only exception of the watch that had dug shallowly into his wrist during his slumber. A small puff escaped his lips and he returned several steps back to grab a set of clean clothes and a towel before making his way out of the room with such exasperation radiating from each movement, as though the whole apartment was to blame for his misery. Letting his feet produce a wade-like sounds as he stumped half-stooping along the tiled hallway, he kept rumbling with annoyance about his own stupidity. Getting drunk. What. The. Hell. What was he hoping to achieve with that? Fanfares? Toushiro growled with exasperation. Now that he thought about it, he didn't even want to exert his mind about recalling any more details about how he had reached his bed. The way he saw it, he had somehow magically teleported home and then done what any other drunk man would do - undressed and plopped right under the covers without any more fussing. Fascinating.

Pulling a strand of hair to his nose, he shiver with distaste as he inhaled the still lingering waft of cigarettes, alcohol and whatnot. Dammit. He would have to scrub every millimeter of skin till the scent was all out of his pored, every molecule, every atom of it. Even if he had to spend all his Saturday morning grating his flesh raw, he'd bloody do it. He had left one unhealthy life before, he was going to do it again and the path to that started with his own body.

Toushiro was just crossing the living-room without real care of the noise his was making with his klutzy morning movements, when a small groan resounded around the room.

"Oi, Toushiro, you're up? Good mornin' " A familiar tuft of orange rose with reeling from behind the sofa's back, blinking the sleepiness away as he eyed the smaller student with curiosity. Hitsugaya instantly yipped with horror, clutching the towel to his bare chest as he tried to cover as much as he could from Ichigo's foggy eyes.

"WHAT THE HELL, KUROSAKI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE! AND IT'S NOT _TOUSHIRO_!" he paused, his eyes going wide as saucers as he saw the other male stand up "HOLY SHIT! YOU'RE NOT SLEEPING NAKED, ARE YOU!"

The utter panic in Hitsugaya's words had the carrot-top laughing generously as he wrapped the cover he had found from god knows where around his tall, lean frame.

"Wow, you sure get plenty of hysteric in the morning, huh? And I'm in my underpants but I see that you'd better not see that either, so I'll try keeping your mind as unblemished as possible."

Hitsugaya eyed the other male from head to toe and stepped back, still clutching his clothes and the towel to his chest.

"Answer." The boy commanded but the level of emotional complement had dropped by several points. Ichigo sighed as he bent down to gather the clothes he had thrown on the floor before going to sleep.

"I should've expected that you wouldn't remember. I drove you here last night." He paused, wondering whether it was a good idea to mention how Hitsugaya had fallen half-asleep during the ride out of physical and more importantly emotional exhaustion and how the carrot-top had almost practically carried the boy to the apartment. It didn't seem like that much of a good idea to share the experience, mostly for the sake of self-preservation from the now sober and fully-conscious Toushiro. _Ah, the joy..._

"I was in such bad condition I couldn't go to bed myself?" the prodigy inquired rather incredulously and Ichigo's eyes rolled heavenwards.

"Something like that…"

Hitsugaya swallowed with difficulty, his cheeks gradually heating as he averted his eyes, fixing them on some suddenly very interesting spot on the wall.

"And did you-… I mean… Did-…"

"I left you to undress on your own."

The look of relief on the smaller male's face tore another small chuckle from the carrot-top as he shook his head and sat down on the arm of the sofa, still well-wrapped in his cover. He watched Hitsugaya's face contort with the vain effort of remembering that particular moment of the past 24 hours but when it all failed miserably, Ichigo couldn't help the grin that cracked on his face:

"The irony! I know something that the boy genius doesn't!"

"Shut it, imbecile, this is all your fault! I told you to stop me from getting drunk." Toushiro snapped back but despite trying so hard, he just couldn't seem to muster the right amount of animosity to apply in his words. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"Because you asked me to stay."

Hitsugaya stumbled backwards, shaking his head erratically in denial.

"I did no such thing." He scowled in yet another attempt to summon the broken pieces of his memory, but the farthest he managed to go was the emerging of several vague silhouettes and flashes of lightless scenes from the depths of his conscious. Ichigo shrugged, crossing his ankles absently as he continued surveying the small tense frame that was standing a few meters away from him.

"Why are you living on your own?"

"My uncle travels a lot. Don't change the subject, we're not done discussing this!"

"Well, what do you want to know? I already told you everything."

A small pause followed afterwards, the two of them just staring at each other till the smaller male finally sighed and turned to round the corner.

"I'm going to go take a shower." Hitsugaya announced collectedly. "And by the time I come out…"

"Yeah, yeah. Lemme guess – you want me gone." Ichigo flipped sarcastically as he stirred to stand up. Toushiro let out an angry whoosh of air swish between his gritted teeth as he struggled to remain composed.

"_And by the time I come out_…" he repeated with obvious annoyance. "I want you dressed. Don't touch anything, because, trust me, I'll _know_." And with that he turned around and headed for the bathroom.

The first thing that Ichigo realized, was that Hitsugaya was one of those people who stayed in the shower till the skin on their palms and soles wrinkled and the water bill boosted to a fat, rotund number. The second fact that he came to recognize as soon as he put his clothes on, was that Toushiro's warning was not a random thought. Last night the carrot-top hadn't got the chance to have a closer look at the apartment but now, in broad daylight, he had to suppress the overwhelming itching in his fingers to touch almost everything he laid his eyes on. It seemed that the boy genius was not only a sanitary maniac (the whole place was virtually squeaky clean, begging to be specked) but had some sort of obsession with quaint, peculiarly angled objects. Small figures made of white matted glass adorned almost all shelves, while crystal, flower-like shaped baubles, placed in a whimsically made vases stood proudly in the corners and dark blue tree embossments put in a silver frames hung on the walls. And these were only the things Kurosaki could describe, using his limited vocabulary.

Ichigo had to admit he was impressed. If Toushiro was looking after this place most of the time, which seemed to be exactly the case, the carrot-top surely had not expected to see his abode full of useless things such as these. It was just so... _humane_. So controversial with the image of the robot-like boy genius he had learned to think of every time he saw the familiar snowy spikes...

Which somehow brought him back to last night.

Now that he thought about it, he'd better keep his mouth shut about details if he didn't want Hitsugaya feeling uneasy in his presence. After getting the boy to his bed and telling him to just undress and slip under the covers, Ichigo had discovered with slight surprise he was parched with thirst. Skimming quickly through the party and what he had had he realized that besides the little amount of alcohol, he hadn't had any water or juice or anything through the whole evening. It took him about half a minute to discover the kitchen and as soon as he did that, he was sucked into the next great search - this time for glasses. As expected, he only ferreted out coffee cups and ugly ones, too. It immediately occurred to him their presence was quite a curious thing, since the boy genius didn't really drink any coffee, but he shrugged the thought off and was just about to pour himself some water from the tap, when he noticed the tea maker next to the microwave and immediately changed his mind.

Few minutes later he was cursing his choice because he had now officially burned his tongue with his attempt to drink before the liquid had cooled down. Digging audaciously through the refrigerator, he pulled out a handful of ice cubes, engulfed one in hope to quench the pain and put the rest in the steaming cup, before making his miffed way out of the kitchen. He didn't bother to turn on the lights as he walked to the sofa and plopped down, stirring the tea in the process as to speed up the cooling. A quick glance at his watch told him he had already wasted a good half an hour with his "just something quick to drink" and he was probably going to waste some more because god forbid he didn't wash the cup after himself, he was pretty sure Hitsugaya would bite his head off for it later on.

Dammit! And now he was leaving circles on the table as well!

Ichigo sighed miserably and leaned back in the sofa, enjoying a few minutes of blank staring at the ceiling. As soon as he felt the first signs of drifting to sleep, he hurried to stand on his suddenly very stiff legs and walked around, chasing the sleepiness away from his eyes. His feet carried him about randomly without really sending any information to his paralyzed brain till he suddenly found himself in front of Hitsugaya's bedroom. Feeling slightly uneasy, he made a move to turn around but a small sound from the other side of the door caught his attention and he paused, raising an incredulous brow. He then placed his hand on the door handle and pushed, peeking cautiously in.

"Toushiro?" he whispered as his stepped inside. The sounds were coming from the boy's bed alright and he was pretty sure he knew what they were but he just… he couldn't comprehend it. "Hello?"

In a heartbeat he was over the boy, shadowing the shaking form with concern. Hitsugaya was asleep, the blanket pulled over his shoulders, but he was folded in half, one arm clutching his stomach as though he was in pain and the other one thrown over his brows as fat tears rolled down his face and nose, sinking into the mattress. He was raving something too, but it was so quiet and inarticulate that Ichigo couldn't make it out if he tried. And for some reason, he really, really didn't want to try.

"_Please_-…"

Ichigo's heart skipped a beat as the word rolled off the boy's lips with a small, weak choke. Suddenly, a wave of anxiety and something that closely resembled fear washed over the carrot-top as he sat on the edge of the bed cautiously, watching the trembling little body and trying to comprehend that this was indeed the haughty, headstrong football captain he was looking at. He had never dared think he'd see such a vulnerable side of the stoic genius and now that he was, for a second time the past couple of hours, he found himself sincerely, honestly _hating_ it.

Something snapped in him at that moment and he shook his head abruptly, his brows knitting into a frown.

_What the hell are you doing? What the hell are you-…_

"What _am_ I doing?" he whispered suddenly a look of regret crossing his face as he leaned over the boy and shook the small shoulder gently. "Toushiro…"

Nothing. He tried again, his voice barely above a whisper now.

"Toushiro..." When nothing happened once more, he sighed and reached to pull the boy's arm off his face, placing his own hand on the Hitsugaya's moist cheek. Not waiting to think over what he was doing(or rather not waiting for the doubt to seep in), he started caressing the prominent bone with his thumb gently as he talked the unconscious captain into rousing from whatever dream was torturing him. "Wake up, little one, wake _up_." Those jade eyes shot open and the prodigy jumped back with shock, a look of terror crossing his face. "Shh, shh, it's just me. It's just me."

"W-what are you-… what are you…"

"You were crying in your sleep, I hadn't left yet and I heard you and… you're ok now, right?" Ichigo pulled back abruptly, feeling his cheeks heat as he suddenly found himself very much aware of their proximity. "Well… I, ugh… I'll be leaving now, I suppose." He smiled awkwardly at the limp form beneath him and made a move to stand up, but a spindly hand grasped on his forearm suddenly and as feeble as the grip was, the carrot-top suddenly found himself unable to budge.

"Don't go." Hitsugaya blurted tiredly, a couple of more tears rolling off his still moist eyes as he let his lids drop and turned his head to the side, already drifting back to sleep. To say Ichigo was smitten, would be an understanding, his mouth now falling agape and his brows almost reaching the first roots of his hair.

"What? What did you just say?"

"Mmm…"

"Hey? Toushiro?"

Hitsugaya was already fast asleep, his fingers still clasping weakly on the carrot-top's forearm. Ichigo exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his flashy hair, his chocolate orbs never once leaving the now peaceful pale face.

"What am I suppose to do now?" he asked out loud as though he was expecting someone to answer his question. He knew what he had to do – leave, go home, because obviously the little genius wasn't going to remember any of this in the morning… There was no point in his staying here, not to mention the very bright possibility he was going to get yelled at once Hitsugaya woke up and found out Ichigo hadn't left yet.

But…

_But what if he needs me? _The idea was so absurd, so laughable, that he felt a bitter smile break out on his face. _What the hell are you thinking? _

It wasn't not suppose to be this way, he was not suppose to feel obligation, or guilt, not towards the Ice Prince. He had promised himself it was going to be _simple_. This was a game and he had to leave as soon as his turn was over._  
_

_But what if he needs me...? _The stupidest, most stubborn thought ever to cross his mind. Yet Ichigo suddenly found himself surrendering to it with the helplessness of a man who had suddenly found himself caring for the worst person possible, in the worst moment possible.

He shook his head and stood up, heading out of the room in search of a cover.

* * *

"Oh, you really didn't touch anything?" Hitsugaya's voice snapped the carrot-top out of his daze and he whipped around to look at the prodigy. Toushiro was standing in the doorframe, looking just as squeaky clean as everything else in the apartment. He was wearing a pair of old dark blue sweats, a T-shirt and a towel, thrown over his shoulder to prevent his dripping wet hair from drenching his clothes.

"You told me to."

"Well…" a small smile twisted the boy's lips as he reached to comb his damp locks with his fingers, wishing silently for the spikes to emerge again quicker. "I wasn't expecting you to listen to me. You strike me as that sort of a person."

Ichigo shrugged, pushing himself on his feet and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He wasn't going to say what was on his mind (_It seems like I do a lot of what you ask me to, these days._) but it was pressing to come out and he didn't know why that was. Something in his feelings towards the small pigheaded student had changed dramatically the last 24hours but he just couldn't bring himself to accept it, to accept what _this_ was.

"So why did I have to be dressed (and bored to death) by the time you decided to inform me you haven't drowned?" the carrot-top quipped, raising an inquisitive brow and Hitsugaya rolled his eyes.

"Thought I could at least feed you after everything you did for me last night. Or what you say you did for me last night. I'll take your word for it."

"I didn't prevent you from getting drunk."

"Well, I'm a bad cook." Toushiro stated with a shrug, a wicked sparkle gleaming in his eyes for a moment as he turned towards the kitchen and nodded Ichigo to follow. "C'mon."


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N: I'm guessing you didn't like my last update much, hm? *rubs the back of her neck nervously*Maybe I did go overboard with it... sorry. _**

**_This chapter starts off a little bit slowly because I didn't feel it would be right to jump to the next scene before finishing this one, I hope you guys don't mind... is this story moving too slowly? I really must know. Prepare to see a different side of Hitsu and Gin. :) Also, if everything goes alright, I think the next chapter will be more... well, filled with action... I suppose. Please stick with me till then? And review?  
_**

* * *

"So… what is it like to live almost completely on your own?" Ichigo asked, plopping down on one of the kitchen's chairs as he watched Hitsugaya open the fridge and scan its content.

"It's like, no one does the shopping when you forget." The shorter student pointed out with a small puff as he surveyed the few boxes scattered randomly across the different levels, possibly in some wicked attempt to make the cooling container appear fuller. Toushiro sighed, stuffed his hand inside and reached blindly for something at the back, unconsciously giving the other male an all-too pleasurable view of his backside. "The one time I invite someone over for a breakfast…"

"Technically, I was already here." Ichigo butted in stupidly, remembering to unglue his eyes from the perky behind as Hitsugaya pulled out a half-empty carton of eggs and turned to give the taller one a quite oblivious, inquiring look.

"I don't think I've got anything more decent…" the genius admitted apologetically and swayed the carton back and forth for emphasize. "Is this ok with you?"

Ichigo nodded and Hitsugaya's back was facing him again, the boy opening and closing different drawers and ferreting out every utensil needed.

"Scrambled or…?"

"Scrambled's fine. Do you need any help?"

"I can scramble a couple of eggs on my own, thank you very much." Hitsugaya snorted, turning the hot-plate on and placing a frying pan on it absently. The kitchen fell silent for a couple of seconds as he put some vegetable oil and then broke the eggs, his eyes never once glancing in the carrot-top's direction. Ichigo sat there uneasily for awhile, then pushed himself up and walked to the boy in an idly saunter.

"You just took a shower." He pointed out gently as he caught the boy's slightly unsettled look. "No reason to make you smell of scrambled eggs two minutes afterwards. Now step aside, please." Before Hitsugaya could retaliate Ichigo's hand had landed on his, making him jump a little as the carrot-top took his time praying the dainty fingers off the pan's grip. From his place above the prodigy's small form, the taller male easily noticed the palpable change in the atmosphere as Toushiro pulled back, pressing his palm almost protectively to his chest before sliding underneath the other one's long arms. Kurosaki could swear he had seen a faint dust of pink sprinkled delectably upon the customarily pale cheeks before the captain had turned his back on him, walking away a bit stiffly.

"That's fine with me…" Hitsugaya uttered sulkily, reaching to rub his damp hair with the edge of the towel that was still wrapped around his neck. "But that means you're serving, too."

A small smirk crept upon the taller male's face as he stirred the content of the pan with a wooden spoon.

"Yes, _sir_."

* * *

"A little bit higher, Abarai."

"Funny you should say that."

"Quit with the complaints and do it. It's just a goddamn poster."

"The duct tape got stuck in my hair…"

"Do you intentionally do stupid things or is this tendency just running in your genetics, I wonder."

Ichigo paused in his walk, his brow shooting up as he spotted the duo that were currently standing before the notice board, with Renji struggling to outwit the duct tape and Hitsugaya hovering around him restlessly. The strawberry couldn't help the small amused smile that broke on his lips as he surveyed the quite absurd scene in which a tall, muscular man was being most earnestly reproved by a slim boy half his size and height.

"Oi, Toushiro!" he called, causing the captain to go rigid for a moment before turning around abruptly and glowering at the carrot-top in an already quite familiar manner. Ichigo suppressed a devilish grin at the sight as he strode casually towards the captain:

"It's not Toushiro. It's Hitsugaya to you, Kurosaki."

"And good morning to you, too, Toushiro-"

"_Hitsugaya!_"

" …-Though I don't know what could be good about a Monday morning. Half my brain is still malfunctioning…" he paused as his stomach rumbled loudly and he groaned in unison with it, unaware of the crabbed look the other male was giving him. "I could really use some of your scrambled eggs right now…"

"You cooked them yourself, dumbass." Toushiro reminded with a roll of his aqua eyes as he folded his arms over his chest slowly and raised both brows with unhidden irony. "You're beginning to make me wonder if you were truthfully sober that morning, Kurosaki."

Ichigo shrugged indefinitely, his eyes already fixed behind the white-haired student as he nodded towards the poster that Renji had almost finished plastering.

"What are two up to anyway?" he asked, making his way towards the announcement board to have a better look at the fresh black-and-white piece of paper. The tattooed student stepped back with a low grunt to give the other one space and eyed his accomplishment with slight hostility, a bit of duct tape still handing jollily and unbeknownst to him on one of the crimson locks. Ichigo's eyes narrowed against the few evenly typed rows, the understanding gradually sinking in as several happy and quite a few anxious bulbs lit in the depths of his sub consciousness. Somewhere at the background Renji excused himself and took off for class, leaving the two alone with the announcement and Hitsugaya's now quite impatiently tapping foot.

"Do you have a reading problem, Kurosaki? I could declaim this to you if you want to."

The carrot-top spun around to face the deeply scowling prodigy, his hands worming their ways to the bottoms of his pockets as his lips twisted with slight wonder to the side.

"Guess you were serious that night, huh, Toushiro…"

"Tch! It's Hitsugaya!" the captain grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. "And of course I was serious. I don't just waste my words in vain." He paused, giving the taller student an incredulous look for a trice before adding "Why do you care anyway?"

Ichigo contemplated his answer for a few long seconds, shifting his weight from leg to leg as a waft of something that vaguely resembled concern coiled around his chest and pressed against his heart. His mind told him to feel relieved, blithe even because this was far more than he had ever dare hope for. His most severe, most intimidating competition was if not completely out of the picture, at least partially or temporarily pushed away, giving him a unique chance to turn things to his own advantage… yet for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to appreciate the sudden run of luck. Ichigo's frown deepened ever so slightly as his memories backpedaled briefly to Ichimaru and their little encounter at the party, a whirl of bitter uneasiness billowing repulsively in the carrot-top's stomach. It wasn't hard to depict the silver-haired fox's face from that night – _not really_ – those sharp features and the taunting grin were so distinctive, so nauseously repellent, that summoning them in one's mind seemed to be a surprisingly easy task. The image stretched and bent with ease, pouring like warm liquid and settling behind Ichigo's orbs - the pointed allusion of return that rested in Ichimaru's slit eyes, the promise of vengeance that seemed to radiate from the man's whole being even in that inebriate state of his… It was all there.

"Are you sure about this? I mean-…"

"Kurosaki…" the name was uttered softly, gently but the burning, obstinate look deep inside Hitsugaya's teal orbs told otherwise as he gazed right back at the taller male, pale lips pursed with mild warning. _Not another word. _A small sigh escaped Ichigo's mouth as he stepped closer to the boy, deciding to change the tactic.

"I didn't know you could throw a fellow player out of the team." He noticed, gesturing towards the announcement that tersely informed there was an opening for a new football player in the team and anyone who was willing to try had to come to the schoolyard after the Friday classes. Hitsugaya let out a small huff in retaliation, a grimace flitting across his face for a particle of the second as he struggled to keep his agitated temper intact.

"Ichimaru was a very good sportsman but he had a problem with discipline." He explained diplomatically before adding with a hint of vexation "The only reason why the coach kept him was because I asked him to."

The carrot-top blinked, slightly bewildered, his lips forming the next words before he could stop himself:

"Some understanding coach…"

Hitsugaya snorted, the sound being drowned by the piercing ring of the school-bell as he readjusted the backpack on his shoulder idly, his deep orbs, in which Ichigo suddenly perceived weariness, never once leaving the chocolate ones. None of them moved even after the sound had died out and several people dashed pass them with the rapidity of a lightening, muttering curses under their breaths. The carrot-top wasn't in hurry – he had maths class and as far as he was concerned, that was by all means the most odious subject in his curriculum – and as for the captain, Toushiro never seemed to be particularly worried about getting in trouble with teachers. _The perks of being a prodigy_.

"I pretty much took upon myself all of the work coach is suppose to do – the whole process of training, picking players, everything." Hitsugaya shrugged awkwardly as his eyes fixed on something behind Ichigo's shoulder. "I guess he considered it being my right to have one little whim fulfilled."

Hitsugaya and a whim? This just didn't seem to sound right combined in one sentence. Hitsugaya and duty, yes; Hitsugaya and meticulosity, positive, Hitsugaya and pretty much everything that included donnish schedules, responsibilities and accurate schemes divided by minutes for every action of the day – ok. But whims… Ichigo barely contained the small fit of humorless laughter that pushed against his lips. He could be exaggerating, but the little boy genius just didn't appear to be the type of person who'd be capricious about anything. _Guess that Ichimaru person was something really special to him after all…_

"Anyway…" Toushiro mumbled, averting his gaze to survey the now empty corridor. "I should probably go now, and you too for that matter."

"Yeah…" Ichigo nodded absently. "See ya round, Toushiro."

"It's _Hitsugaya_." The boy grumbled over his shoulder, already striding down the hallways. "Try to remember that, dumbass." And with something that suspiciously resembled a smile, the captain turned right on the next corner and disappeared from sight, leaving a slightly absent-minded strawberry to stare after him. Ichigo's eyes drifted back to the poster and for a moment he held his gaze on the words. Then it clicked.

* * *

Hitsugaya Toushiro was running his eighth lap when he spotted the very much expected group of candidates approach the far right corner of the yard, Renji's familiar tuft of red mane standing out from the crowd as the tattooed student gestured to his captain to approach them. Blowing a lock of white hair from his eyes, the captain made an abrupt turn to the left and traversed the yard, coming to a gradual halt in front of the ginger-headed student.

"Can I tell the weaklings to hit the road?" Renji mumbled, making sure to move only half of his mouth as he arched his brows hopefully at the boy's approach. "Half of these people can't even kick a ball, yet alone-"

"Calm down, Abarai." Hitsugaya retorted with a roll of his eyes as snatched a towel from the taller student's hands and wrapped it around his shoulders before surveying the group of blokes that were currently occupying a narrow rectangle of space several meters away from the duo. A few of them looked like they were going to snap at the first signs of pressure not only physically, but emotionally as well, the vast majority Toushiro knew and was well aware that they were only averagely good at playing football, a couple of teens the captain recognized from his PE classes as ones to be a potentially suitable choice and one…

…one had really flashy orange hair.

Ichigo was having a tough time trying to figure out how to act now that he was already here, stuck with a bunch of newbies and apparently no real idea of what was expected of him. Earlier that day, Renji had responded with a disturbingly uproarious guffaw at the strawberry's announcement that he was planning to try entering the team. " Captain Hitsugaya's gonna wipe the floor with you just for the sake of proving he isn't biased." the red-head had pointed out with just a tiny tinge of sympathy in his voice, his large hand landing on Ichigo's shoulder and making the latter growl with irritation. The perspective of being tortured by a midget wasn't nearly as appealing for him as Abarai found it and even if he was quite certain that he was good at football (it was pretty much a family thing, really) his apprehensions seemed to grow with every minute he spent standing between a lanky senior and a short hyperactive male that he was pretty sure he had met in the cafeteria and labeled as a weirdo.

"Kurosaki?" came Hitsugaya's disbelieving voice, the captain's eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to make out the carrot-top's form from behind several other students. "Is that you?"

Ichigo let out a low huff, realizing that all chances to run for the hills were hereby bygone and stepped forward to face the white-haired boy's now offendingly amused gaze.

"I believe so." The carrot-top admitted drily, his eyes snapping up to glower thunderously at Renji who had almost literally stuffed his fist in his mouth in attempt to keep the pressing laughter from escaping his lips. Toushiro didn't seem to notice, his eyes now travelling up and down the orange-haired teen in a way that made the latter feel inexplicably exposed.

"Well, this ought to be interesting." The captain murmured, the edges of his lips curving into a small smirk.

_Flashback:_

_22th July, 4 years back…_

_Ichimaru Gin hated summer holidays. He never got to do what he wanted because his parents would always send him away from Karakura and to his grandparents, miles away from his home place and his friends, in a small seaside town that appeared to be completely vacant during the days and even more empty during the nights. The only part of it that seemed to be more lively was situated in the far southern sector, on the 'borderline' with the 'bad' neighbourhoods. This was probably the one place in the whole town where there were a couple of discos, several clubs and a bunch of expensive hotels that were customarily occupied by tourists._

_Ironically enough, it was in one of these hotels that Ichimaru was working as waiter in the twenty-four-hour outdoor bar at the side of the building. Most of the time he would take nightshifts, meeting the uncomfortable hours readily since much less people came during the night and he didn't have to worry about getting caught slacking. Not that he would actually worry anyway… He had only taken up the job out of boredom, hoping that it would help him pass the tedious holiday faster. Which was pathetic really, since at this moment his friends were probably drowning in alcohol at some party in Karakura, hitting on girls and dancing in ways that would most likely make half of this little town's citizens' jaws hit the ground._

_Today was an exceptionally quiet day. No one had come since 11pm, and the place was pretty much dead, with the barman wiping glasses and refusing to have a conversation with anyone and the other waiter fast asleep on one of the uncomfortable tables in the back._

"'_m takin' a break." Gin announced more to himself than to anyone else, before sliding off the tall chair he had been occupying the last 40minutes or so. He wasn't planning to go too far away, just a little bit down the street, but it was better than sitting on the same spot for this long. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he made his way out of the confines of the bar and sauntered along the sidewalk, his feet carrying him slowly, aimlessly forward. The night air was slightly cooler than the hot summer layers of sticky gases that irrevocably came hand-in-hand with the long days. The sky wasn't clear tonight. Just as it had been during the whole week, today the heavens were covered with thousands of torn cotton pieces, light enough to have the sun heat the dusty ground in the morning, but thick enough to enshroud the remains of the warmth from leaving the earth and the humidity from relieving the heavy atmosphere. There was no moon, and no stars, and where the street lamps weren't functioning, it was hard to make out anything that was situated farther than two meters away from you. He couldn't go too far if he wanted…_

_Less than fifteen minutes later Ichimaru had already returned to the bar, browned off to the bottom of his heart and so devoid of any sympathy towards anyone who didn't share his fate, that the moment he spotted someone sauntering in front of the bar, his only prayer was that the stranger would just fuck off to whatever other bar they wanted, just not enter this one._

_Surprisingly enough, his request was granted._

"_Hey, have you got a lighter?"_

_Ichimaru stopped dead in his track, his brows arching as he eyed the speaker of the request incredulously._

"_A lighta?" he repeated as if the words were going to change their meaning if he reiterated, and his own slit eyes slid down the form of the very same person he had earlier mistaken for a potential customer. The child was no more than thirteen years of age, very slim and very pale, his strikingly bright orbs gazing right back at the taller male as he lifted a rather thick cigarette before his lips for emphasize. He was clad in light blue jeans and a slightly bigger than necessary shirt, a baseball hat adorning his head but hardly covering a mane of white strands that was sticking out from its confines in all four directions._

"_That's what I said." The stranger pointed out, his voice brimming with impatience. "Do you have one?"_

"_Aren't ya too young ta smoke?"_

"_I didn't ask for your opinion, did I?"_

_When Ichimaru's brows merely rose higher at the comment, the boy let out an exasperated sigh before wrapping his left arm around his midriff and propping the other one's elbow on the hand, the cigarette now conveniently positioned next to his mouth._

"_Can you _please_ lend me a lighter?"_

_Ichimaru let out a small dry laugher._

"_Go home, kid, there's no one 'ere fo' ya ta impress with your newly acquired skill." He pointed out, already preparing to head to the bar. "An' I don'have a lighta'."_

_A small smirk flitted across the boy's face._

"_It's sticking out of your front pocket." The stranger snapped so fast that the other teen didn't even have the time to react before a spindly arm shot in his direction and the lighter was snatched from Ichimaru's jeans. A soft click echoed around the empty street as the boy balanced the cigarette between his lips and lit it, inhaling the smoke deeply._

"_I'm not trying to impress anyone. I'm waiting… for someone." The shorter male enunciated, his eyelids falling to cover half of bright teal irises as he took another blissful drag from the fag. The smell from the plumes hit Gin right in the face and he almost choked as he realized this was not nicotine fumes he was inhaling… _

"_Ya're a druggie."_

_The boy looked up, his lips twisting into a thin, cold smile as he eyed the taller male under the brim of his hat._

"_I wouldn't call pot much of a drug."_

_A disgusting taste exploded in Ichimaru's mouth as more of the smell coiled around him, soaking into his clothes and skin molecule after molecule. Before he could stop himself, he had grabbed on the boy's arm and was dragging the smaller male away._

"_Go poison yerself somewhere else. I work in tha' bar and I dun want ya smokin' tha' shit in front of it."_

_With strength that definitely caught Ichimaru off guard, the smaller teen pulled away from the vice grip, a look of sheer hatred darkening the limpid eyes._

"_I told you I was waiting for someone. He's suppose to be here any minute, so I'll be out of your sight faster if you just leave me alone and sod off to do whatever you fucking wanna do."_

_The distinctive grin on the taller male's face widened ever so slightly, a hint of bitter mockery twisting the edges of his lips as he stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets._

"_An' who could a small child like yerself be waitin' fer in an hour like this, huh? Definitely not yer mommy ta pick ya up."_

"_None of your business." The boy snapped back, his cigarette flashing for a moment in the semi-darkness as he stared forward stubbornly, his slender fingers still fumbling absently with Ichimaru's lighter._

"_Waitin' fer another drug addicted buddy then?"_

"_Will you shut up and just leave me the fuck alone?"_

"_Move from in front of tha bar and I will."_

"_Not happening."_

"_Bitch." Seeing as the offence didn't have the needed effect, Ichimaru let out a small snicker and added. "The question is: whose? Unless ya've got some magical way ta produce money at yer age, I bet 's yer supplier's."_

_This caught the boy's attention and he turned to look at the taller male, his now slightly dimmed eyes gleaming with a sort of mild, biting amusement._

"_Not yours anyway."_

"'_m not a fag."_

_The boy laughed humorlessly, his fingers tapping gently on the top of the cigarette to remove the ash before bringing it back to his lips._

"_Yes, you are. Otherwise, you wouldn't have brought the subject up."_

"_Tha's a fucked up logic." Ichimaru stated as he watched the other male take a long drag from the poison stick, the brim of the cap throwing a thick shadow over the bleary eyes._

"_If you say so."_

_The pause that followed was a short one as just a couple of minute later the sound of a smoothly running engine filled the air and a large black car pulled off in front of the two. The door on the passanger's side flew open._

"_Oi, Toushiro, sorry for being late." Came a half-laughing voice from the depths of the automobile and the boy rolled his eyes, taking a last drag from cigarette before throwing it to the side._

"_About time, Grimm, and it's Hitsugaya to you, stop calling me-…"_

"_Get your pretty ass in the car and shut up. People are waiting." The voice interrupted impatiently and Hitsugaya sighed with exasperation before sliding into the seat and shutting the door. The car was gone from sight long before Ichimaru finally decided to remove his gaze from the direction in which it had disappeared._

_End of Flashback._


	10. Chapter 10

**_A/N: Sorry for the late update... Not only was I overwhelmed with my philosophy project, but this was a pretty difficult chapter to write, because I don't know about sports. I hope it doesn't show much and I hope it's not as boring as I fear it is. I'll try to make it better in the next chapter. There'll be more IchiHitsu interactions there._**

**_FURTHERMORE: I might need a beta. Not for everything I write, just for some things like one-shots and stuff. I would ask for a beta who doesn't take ages to check my stuff also, because so far I've stumbled upon betas like that. I realize it must take a lot of time to go through everything someone ELSE has written, but it's still quite frustrating. Plus, if that beta has watched Glee (the TV show I'm currently obsessed with) that would be even better because some ideas are trying to make their way through right now and you probably know how infuriating that is. xD  
_**

* * *

Ichigo realized he had stopped counting the laps long ago. He was pretty sure that he, along with all the other guys who were trying to get into the soccer team, had never, ever run for so long in their entire life. It didn't matter how much the carrot-top tried to preserve his strength, going in a well-estimated, medium pace and it didn't matter how hard he attempted to keep his breathing steady – the number of kilometers the football captain apparently wanted them to take were too many. At some point during the "warm-up" Ichigo had even been on the verge of collapsing – legs heavy like lead and lungs burning for air - but instead of giving up like a good proportion of the others, he had forced himself to keep going, surpass this barrier of his usual endurance. He wouldn't say his body had gone numb – his chest was still tightening painfully with each intake of oxygen – but he had pretty much switched on auto-pilot, feet moving beneath him, pushing him forward at a decent speed that he felt he could maintain as long as he didn't stop to rest. Or if the heat didn't make his brain explode…

Which lead him to the next annoying thing. _Toushiro._

It really was amazing how the white-haired kid could act like he didn't even notice the bunch of panting, moaning teens that passed by him every couple of minutes or so. He was simply sitting there, on a bench next to Renji with a pair of sunglasses on his nose and a plastic cup with a straw, filled with – _oh, god! – _something _cold_ and refreshing. At several occasions Ichigo even thought the boy had forgotten to tell them when to stop, but as soon as the group slowed down, planning to make a halt in front of the genius, Toushiro would miraculously snap his attention back to them and knit his brows before barking at them to keep going.

When they were finally allowed to quit the endless jog, it felt even worse. Ichigo's stomach twisted as soon as he ordered his feet to stop moving but the moment he bent forward, resting his palms on his knees, he got a nudge in his ribs from behind.

"You shouldn't go completely immobile after so much running, Kurosaki. Keep walking." Came Toushiro's voice and the carrot-top groaned under his breath, pushing himself to move as his lungs struggled to restore their regular rhythm.

The group of candidates were given about 15minutes to rest before Hitsugaya came up to them and announced that it was time for the real deal. They were divided in two groups, one with six people in it and one with seven. Whether on purpose or not, the smaller group consisted of exactly those students who appeared to have shown the most potential in the sphere of football, whereas Ichigo's team, although bigger in number, was one of exhausted, barely breathing and very muddle-headed creatures who could wield a soccer ball just as successfully as running on a 4-ich stilettos. Because of his quite clear idea of what was to follow, the carrot-top hurried to voice his complains about the uneven forces, only to have Toushiro shrugging.

"If you don't like it, you can leave right away, you know." The boy pointed out matter-of-factly, reaching to adjust the pair of sunglasses on top of his head as he waited for Ichigo's response. The strawberry gritted his teeth for a moment before sighing with defeat and nodding to the football captain.

"Whatever."

The half-hearted murmur summoned a strange, quirked smile on the prodigy's face as he contemplated the taller one for a moment longer than necessary before tearing his eyes away and redirecting them in the teams' general direction.

"I want to see a good, interesting match. No cheating. Don't even try." He cooed sweetly as his smile turned a modicum colder. "I'll be looking very carefully and if I see anything like that, you'll be out before you can say 'But I didn't'. Is that clear? Get started."

* * *

15minutes later Ichigo was livid. Not because they were losing – _ok, maybe a little_ – but because he was forced to play with such incredible morons. It was hard to say if they had ever played soccer in their entire life or just watched it on the cable TV on Saturday nights, a bowl of pop corn in their lap and a chequered baseball hat on their head. Actually, it was quite difficult to say if they were in the possession of any brains at all, considering the random patterns in which they moved and the peculiar strategy decisions they took individually, without consulting with any of the others.

Calling for a short time-out, Ichigo gestured to his team to gather.

"We're pathetic." The carrot-top pointed out in a low hiss. "It's only been 15minutes and they've already scored once, how do you expect to win?" he glanced in the direction of Hitsugaya (who was still sitting on that bench, currently chewing on the end of his straw) with the corner of his eye and added. "I want you to listen very carefully now, because if we don't play together, it's over for us."

And being over for them, _for him_, would be a terrible pity, because he knew damn well how to play. This was no longer about getting an excuse to spend more time with the stuck-up boy genius, it was about proving himself… In front of whoever needed that proof – Toushiro and Renji's names shining at the top of the list, of course.

Ichigo explained his strategy to the rest of them, doing his best to be as quick and as clear as possible and, quite surprisingly, no one disagreed or questioned his self-proclaimed leadership. Within minutes, they were on the field again, assuming their positions and preparing to face their opponents. The other team was consisted of much stronger, faster and more experienced players, but each of them seemed too absorbed into the thought that he was playing for himself in this match rather than for the team's success… and it showed. They were individuals on the field, random soccer-players, all gathered at the same place but somehow playing their separate games and _that_ was the weakness that the carrot-top was planning to use against them.

At first it didn't seem like their new strategy was showing any signs of whatever kind of achievement but as the time went on and no second goal followed the first one, the other team seemed to grow slightly anxious. The players started taking risky decisions, all in favour of the single purpose of scoring and at certain moments during these haphazard feats of 'bravery', Ichigo noticed openings in their defense. _That's what I'm talking about! _And then, before you knew it, in one such loophole, the carrot-top managed to maneuver the ball with enough expertise to fool his rivals as well as the goalkeeper and kicked it right into the net. As his own team exploded in exhilarated hoots and shouts, Ichigo couldn't help it but throw a glance in Toushiro's direction to try and guess what the captain's opinion on their little success was. What he saw instead of, say, and approving smile, was those pale lips, curved into a smug smirk as Hitsugaya whipped his sunglasses off and handed them to Renji, his mouth moving when he said something to the red-head that the strawberry couldn't quite catch. Ichigo found himself frowning slightly at the scene, an uneasy feeling creeping inside his gut, making him feel… what?

He didn't have the chance to muse over it for long as he was quickly pulled into the game once again. Whether due to the other team shock of having the result equaled or for some other reason he couldn't think of, Ichigo quickly managed to gain control over the ball and once again found himself cutting the distance between himself and the goal in most peculiar zigzags. _Fifty meters… Forty… Thirty…_ A small yell reached his ears from the distance but he couldn't quite comprehend its meaning, instead focusing all his attention on the target. Then, just as he was about to approach a convenient position for scoring, a low swishing sound cut through the thick air and all he saw was a flash of white before he realized that the ball was gone.

"What the-…?" he blinked, almost tripping over the emptiness and twirled around just in time to see Hitsugaya Toushiro, with the ball between his ankles, jumping over another guy who was trying to deter him. Ichigo's mouth hung open, a low curse rolling off his tongue as he watched the incredibly small male move faster than anyone he had ever seen, dodging all attempts to be stopped with almost haughty ease, until…

BAM! The ball pierced the net so hard it spun forcefully against it before dropping on the ground in what appeared to be sad exhaustion. Then Toushiro turned around, his jade eyes instantly piercing into Ichigo's chocolate ones and he smirked, those thin shoulders lifting ever so slightly in a terribly nonchalant manner. The carrot-top felt himself heating up from the inside as anger swirled in his gut, shooting through his veins and all across his body.

The urge to ask for another time out, to demand an explanation rose in his chest and he had to take a couple of deep breaths to quell it. So Toushiro was playing for the other team. He was pretty sure if he asked why the boy had suddenly decided to join, Hitsugaya would point out the inequality between the number of players. _No_. It would be a useless waste of time, not to mention he wasn't sure he could handle the captain's feignedly justified arguments about this sudden change of heart.

Besides, it was just one midget more, how hard could it be to win?

As Ichigo was about to find out, pretty damn impossible.

It was like Hitsugaya had made it a personal mission of his to get in the carrot-top's way. If the taller male ever managed to get a hold of the ball for more than ten seconds, it was a fucking miracle. It didn't matter how fast he ran or what sorts of complicated maneuvers he applied, the white-haired student was always there. Predicting every movement, hindering each attempt to go anywhere near the goal. Kurosaki felt kindda stalked. Loitering with sham aimlessness around the borders of the field, Toushiro didn't even seem to be paying much attention if any of the other players tried to score (probably because the chances of something like that to happen were slim to none) but whenever it was Ichigo trying to slip through the defense, the captain would rush in that direction, stealing the ball with ease and passing it to one of his smirking teammates. He didn't even try scoring again, leaving the actual work to the others as he focused on merely wrecking the carrot-top's plans, one after the other, successfully building up the frustration that the taller male was trying in vain to keep at bay, until the time ran out.

As he stood beside his crestfallen teammates, frowning spitefully and panting in his efforts to catch his breath, Ichigo couldn't suppress the series of scathing lines that popped inside his head at the sight of the white-haired captain, walking around and pointing at the ones that had to leave. Three men from the winning team were asked to go before Hitsugaya turned to the carrot-top's group.

"Better luck next time." He shrugged, gesturing to them all to head for the yard's gate. A couple of disappointed groans sounded behind Ichigo's back and the carrot-top shook his head, his jaw clenching.

_Why, you little-…_

"Hey!" he called before he could stop himself. "Toushiro!"

A low growl escaped the captain's lips as he turned around to face the carrot-top, the infamous glare in place. Ichigo didn't care though. He was exhausted, and humiliated and irritated beyond belief by what had just happened and whether he was going to get a place on the team or not, it didn't matter anymore. All he wanted was to let the whole bubbling stew of frustration out in the open and demand an explanation. Make the infuriating boy genius feel at least a little bit bad for making them all go through all of this for nothing.

"It's Hitsugaya." The white-haired student cut him off before he could start pouring his outrage on him and his ill methods of picking the deserving players. "Wipe that gall expression off your face, Kurosaki." He paused, a small smirk tugging on his lips as he nodded wickedly. "I forgot to mention your name. You're going on. Good game."

And with that, he spun on his heel, leaving a terribly dumbfounded Ichigo to stare at his back in awe.

* * *

There were given a little more than half an hour to rest before the final part of the whole selection process came. Once the break was over, Renji stood before the goal, a pair of thick gloves on his hands, and assumed a defensive stance. Each of the four players left were asked to try and score as many times as possible within ten attempts. The first one, probably the guy with most experience out of them all, managed to get the ball in the net eight times. The other two weren't nearly as accurate in their kicks, scoring five and six times, respectively.

By the time it was already Ichigo's turn to try, his palms were sweating abundantly and he had a hard time desisting the desire to pace back and forth in hopes to ease the tension that was gradually building up inside his gut. Once Renji gestured to him to come, he practically leaped to his feet, striding stiffly to the ball that Hitsugaya was adjusting on the ground for him to kick.

_Okay… You can do this. You've done this a million times before._

Of course he had. It was a family thing really – his dad was amazing and football, his sister was a young talent of her own, and until recently (meaning before he changed schools), Ichigo had gone out to play with his mates almost every evening during the week. Plus, it wasn't like this whole thing was such a big deal. So what if he didn't make it on the team? What would change? _Obviously_, only one of them all was going to take Ichimaru's place, which meant almost everybody who tried would be out. It was an achievement enough he had made it this far, considering Toushiro had turned out to be quite a vicious, vulturous creature of a captain. It wasn't worth it wasting his nerves on this.

He paused, glancing as furtively as possible in Hitsugaya's direction, only to whip his eyes away as he noticed the other one gazing at his slightly flustered face appraisingly. Expectantly.

So maybe it wasn't all about the team after all, he mused with a tad bit of gaucheness. _Pft. _He didn't even _like_ most of the guys who played on it. They were all a bunch of self-important douches, with such overwhelming inferiority complexes that if they didn't run fifty miles every day and lift several tons of weight to make sure their muscles made their sleeves split, they felt like the squits they were. How could anyone enjoy their company, really? And who the hell would let himself willingly endure these guys' presence three times a week just for the glory of being on the school's football team?

_Oh, right. Me._

Ichigo's eyes fell on the ball before his feet and he exhaled slowly, letting his stiff back relax a bit. He could feel Toushiro's piercing eyes on him as he flexed his arms and legs slightly. _God, this is ridiculous… _Why was he doing this again? Curiosity? Ambition?

_No. _It was neither.

His lips curved into a bitter smile as he dared shoot a glance in the captain's direction yet again, the very much expected answer slowly swirling around his head.

Could it be that, deep inside, he just wanted to_ impress_ the fastidious little prick? Show the kid that he wasn't such a plain, not-so-bright and not-so-tough guy, who wanted nothing but to get through his high school years by putting as little effort as possible in everything he was forced to do? If this was the case, it was just pathetic really. Pathetic.

_Don't forget the ultimate purpose, you are not supposed to _like_ him. You're not supposed to _care_ what he thinks about you._

"Gee, Ichigo, we haven't got all day long you know. Quit it with the meditation already." Renji's apt remark reached his ears as the red-head dispatched an impatient look in the carrot-top's direction. "Come _on!_"

Ichigo nodded, taking a deep breath and after a short evaluation of the circumstances, he kicked the ball.

And scored.

"Nine to go." Hitsugaya mumbled impartially somewhere to the right and Ichigo grinned, catching the ball that Renji passed back at him. _This isn't so hard. _Pulling back a little, he repeated the action, this time aiming for the opposite direction of his previous strike. Surprised by the change, Abarai found himself outwitted once again, a small smirk tugging on his lips as he kicked the ball back to his friend.

"We'll see about that, Ichigo." He said with a cocky shake of his head, but the carrot-top merely shrugged, hardly intimidated by the statement. _You better not miss this, Toushiro._

Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…

It was five successful attempts later that Hitsugaya decided it was time to interfere and sent the little notebook he had been holding on the ground along with his pen.

"Give me the gloves, Renji." The boy demanded, walking towards the quite surprised red-head. "Go have a rest. I'm taking over."

"Captain?"

"Just hand them over." Toushiro repeated, stretching his hand forward expectantly. Renji paused for a moment, throwing a sympathetic look in Ichigo's direction, before pulling the gloves off reluctantly. As he passed by the quite stupefied carrot-top, Abarai patted him condescendingly on the shoulder, a small murmur that sounded suspiciously like 'I feel sorry for you, mate.' leaving his mouth on the way.

"Three more, Kurosaki." The captain urged him as he crouched a little (as if he wasn't small enough as it was) and nodded to the taller male to go on. Ichigo decided not to waste any time musing over the change and chose to act before he could find himself hesitating. Toushiro was ridiculously small. What were the chances that he was a better goal-keeper than Renji? His mind told him – not so big, and his intuition screamed at him not to let his guard down. Which he really thought he did, as he kicked the ball as hard as he could.

Only to have it land right in the boy's chest.

"Again." Hitsugaya called, throwing the ball back at the now very much shocked carrot-top. Catching the thing easily, Kurosaki swallowed with some difficulty and positioned it before his feet again, standing up. A trickle of sweat ran down his temple as the anxiety started to seep into his system at the sight of the smaller male, gazing back at him with almost blood-freezing confidence. _Not good._

Deciding to change the tactic, Ichigo launched forward, making sure to kick the ball in a way that it headed to the highest point the goal's size allowed him in an attempt to use the boy's height against him.

It didn't work. Not only was Toushiro an incredible runner, but _damn_ could he jump! Grasping the ball that Hitsugaya had flung back at him, Ichigo paused, fighting down the awe along with the uneasiness that were worming their way into his previous feeling of success.

"Last one, Kurosaki." The captain called and the carrot-top could swear the prissy mask of indifference cracked to reveal a small sneering smirk underneath.

Feeling the familiar waft of vexation start to accumulate inside his chest, Ichigo took a moment to think. It was obvious that any attempts for a straightforward kick weren't going to work because Hitsugaya was far from an amateur. The kid knew what he was doing and it seemed like he knew what the _carrot-top_ was about to do just as well. _That's experience and practice for you. _he practically read on the genius's face as he saw those shoulders shrug almost challengingly again.

_One more. _Ichigo straightened his back, a decisive, slightly apprehensive expression twisting his features as he kicked the ball as hard as he could. It shot upwards and to the left, for a moment heading to the upper corner of the net, only to change direction in the last moment and depict a harsh arc in the air. Ichigo's throat ran dry, eyes following the round object in its movement as his mind prayed to all deity available to make this work.

THUD!

"Almost…" Toushiro gasped as he clutched the ball to his chest with one hand and pushed himself off the ground with the other. Ichigo's blood withdrew from his face at the sight, a couple of snickers from the other players reaching his ears. He glanced at Renji's direction to see the red-head lifting his arms helplessly, an apologetic smile twisting his lips. _It wasn't meant to be. _he mouthed condescendingly and the carrot-top felt the seething anger return full-power as he turned to march away. _Goddamit, this is so unfair!_

"Hey, Kurosaki, where do you think you're going?" Toushiro's voice reached his ears but he merely huffed under his breath, heading for the benches with the sole intention to grab his backpack and leave. He needed a bath, dinner and his bed. And to forget all about this… at least till the morning, when his aching muscles were going to keep reminding him of this insupportable event, and how uselessly he had thrown his efforts and nerves away. _Fuck it!_

"Hey! Hey, Kurosaki, what the hell?" the sound of hurriedly approaching steps bounced off the ground behind him and Ichigo turned around just in time to glower at a slowing down Toushiro.

"What?" the carrot-top snapped before he could stop himself and the boy frowned, the ridiculously large gloves still on his hands as he dropped his arms by his side.

"Mind the tone, Kurosaki!" Toushiro flipped, but his scowl relaxed a bit, a couple of ripples of understanding thinning the usually stern attitude. "Just wanted to tell you that practices are on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I don't tolerate people being late."

Ichigo's eyes widened, pure disbelief washing over his face:

"W-what? But I couldn't-"

"I wasn't expecting you to score." Toushiro admitted, his eyes softening a little as he glanced over his shoulders at Renji who was currently dealing with the group of arguing players behind them. "I gave you hell cuz I wanted to see exactly what you could do. You didn't stop though and you pushed yourself the best way you could. That was all I really wanted from you." He stepped back, pulling the gloves off his hands, completely oblivious of the mix of surprise and victory that was slowly diffusing across the taller one's face. "I'm not saying you don't need some serious training, of course. You're whole body is screaming '_slacker_' and I'm not liking it in the slightest. So prepare for some hell of a running for next week. I'm going to ask the principle to do some changes in your schedule so it's more convenient for you to come to practice. I hope that's ok with you?"

"Are you kidding me?" Ichigo exclaimed, reaching to grab the thin shoulders before him in a fit of intensifying exhilaration. "You're taking me on the team? Toushiro, this is… just, wow!"

"Haven't you been listening to anything I've been telling you the past ten minutes?" came the aggravated retort. "And it's now Hitsugaya-_taicho_, thank you very much."

* * *

**_A/N: Review?_**


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N: This chapter turned far more narrative than I planned for it to be. I hope you like it anyway and I'll try to make the next one better... Yeah, I know I'm like ALWAYS promising that but, if it's gonna make a difference, I really AM trying. T_T_**

* * *

Ichigo's new program wasn't all that diverse from the previous one. Actually, the only major change was his math classes, which were now conducted by a completely different teacher. A couple of more lessons were switched or moved from one day to the other, PE was no longer with Kira but instead with Toushiro and most of his classes were now with Renji. As far as the other details regarding the team were considered, the diminutive captain had demanded to have the carrot-top run some tests to check on his physical condition, just in case and his file was thoroughly checked for any discipline issues from his previous school. Ichigo didn't mind – not really – he was actually having the time of his life. True, Hitsugaya had the curious penchant to miraculously turn into a hell hound once he set his foot on the field and he, Kurosaki, along with the rest of the team, had to suffer the transformation without so much as strangled a moan to express their pain thrice a week but _oh_, was it worth it! For what appeared to be just a week, Ichigo turned from the weird new kid to a gossip topic Number 1, a load of flattering, disconcerting or quite inconceivable stories swarming around the building, both disquieting and adulating the carrot-top's self-conceit.

"Don't let it get to your head." Hitsugaya warned one Wednesday afternoon as he dismissed the team, staying behind to jog for awhile more. Unable to give an actual answer between his breathless pants, Ichigo satisfied himself by merely nodding before turning around to drag himself towards the lockers room. His teammates had already gotten inside, being far more used to the practices than he was, and their loud voices came in mingled gurgles and only half-serious growls from the showers section. The strawberry let out a small weary sigh and plopped on the nearest bench, giving his strained shank muscles a few moments to relax. His brain activity had been seriously reduced due to the heavy physical activity, so for awhile he just stared blankly in front of him, restoring his breathing and his heartbeat, a mash of random thoughts floating around his head for a few minutes until it settled on the very last thing he had heard today. _Hm? _Ichigo frowned as he forced himself on his feet and pulled his locker open, a wobbly hand rummaging inside clumsily for a few moments as he let the words seep into his brain cells, formulate something sensible. There was a peculiar notch in the way Toushiro had spoken his warning, something quite strongly resembling apprehension that just baffled him in the most unnerving way possible. It was almost like Hitsugaya was _asking_ him not to yield, because he _knew_ what the consequences would be. Was this something the boy had experienced himself? Or was it…

…Was it what had stood between him and Ichimaru in the end? Reputation? Popularity?

Dismissing the thought almost as soon as it had occurred to him, Ichigo let out a small hiss of annoyance and draped the rolled towel around is neck before heading to the showers. A couple of other students were already exiting it, one of them grinning at the carrot-top with a mild condescension (which he blamed on his current inability to get used to the training schedules) and the carrot-top did his best to return the smile with a very, very weary one.

"Regretting it already, huh, Ichigo?" Renji's teasing chortle reached his ears but he chose to ignore it and picked a cubicle, throwing his towel over its side and turning the water on. _God, it feels good… _Letting the drops massage his sore muscles and ease the pain in his aching body, Ichigo closed his eyes and stayed like this, relishing into the feeling. So much effort for staying on the team, wasn't it? Running like crazy and training every part of your body into a robust ball of strength. He deserved a little something for it, didn't it? A little bit of appreciation. So what if he wasn't nameless anymore, if people knew who he was? Popularity wasn't a sort of an abhorrent crime, or even something that he could help, it was just how things worked. Plus, he wasn't some flippant, brain-less douche, he wasn't going to go _blind_ all of a sudden just because he got some attention. He knew very well what he wanted and how he wanted it and there was no way he was going to lose his sober sense of-…

Ichigo paused, brown eyes cracking open as a realization dawned on him, the word 'sober' grinding against his insides, urging him, beckoning him. _Sober_. A tiny smirk grazed his lips as he reached to turn the stream just a tiny bit cooler.

* * *

"So." Ichigo drawled, both brows raising suspiciously as he took in Rangiku's wicked grin apprehensively. "Lemme get this straight: Toushiro doesn't get to sit at the back of the room, or next to anyone, because he lets people cheat from him?"

"Oh, not '_cheat_', that's such an ugly word!" Matsumoto groused, waving her hand around dismissively before placing it on Hitsugaya's desk, her pale blue eyes surveying the prodigy as he lift his own bored gaze off the book he was reading to show below mild interest in the dialog the other two were having. "He just lets others… help themselves from what he's doing. But since the teacher can't see that point of view, he's forced our poor captain to sit all alone at the front, unable to provide any help to his friends in need."

"Namely you?" Ichigo suggested and next to him Toushiro slammed his book on the desk with a snort.

"Namely _half the class_." He supplied, shooting his best friend with a mock-angry glare as he leaned back in his chair. "And don't listen to her, I still write her test every time, it's why she sits behind me."

Matsumoto didn't even have the decency to blush at that revelation as she contemplated the shorter of the boys with a pouty, playful smile before reaching to ruffle his white locks – an action that was bound to have everybody else lose their hand if they dared even try. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes but endured the teasing, fingers instantly snapping up to his hair to try and fix it the best way he could once Rangiku was no longer disheveling him.

"So, yeah." The girl said, turning once more to face the carrot-top, hip jutting to the side in a slightly provoking manner. "Sorry, but you don't get to have Toushiro for the Math classes to sit beside him to discuss… what was it again?"

"Soccer strategies." Ichigo replied flatly, trying very hard not to let the disappointment show much or his gaze to roam too obviously in Hitsugaya's general direction. "And, you know, other such stuff that… might help the team."

The look that aroused on the girl's face at that statement (accompanied with a tiny frown and a narrowing of her eyes), was definitely a suspicious one, yet before she had had the time to voice her opinion on the matter, the bell went off. A cloud of moans and half-muffled cusses exploded around the room, the event and the reactions all simultaneously announcing the beginning of yet another fragment of school torture. In a heartbeat, all of the aimlessly wandering students hurried to scrambled to their places, groups of people talking quieted down and parted with a few goodbyes and a few devastated personas made their way from the halls - inside the classroom. Only Toushiro seemed to remained unaffected by the sound signal, eyes and nose still buried in his read, while Ichigo proved to be the other incredible exception by showing surprising enthusiasm in his efforts to settle as quickly as possible at the back, conveniently picking the same line of desks as the white-haired genius. The lesson started shortly afterwards and the place fell deadly silent, unlike many other classes in which the students hardly even attempted to listen(choosing instead to study for other subjects or engage themselves with whatever sorts of entertainment their mobiles could provide). Apparently, this could not happen during Math and by the way the teacher spoke, half-snarling, half-yelling despite the lack of any sound whatsoever, Ichigo was rather certain that even the smallest fuss caused here could have the most explosive results.

The carrot-top glanced around the room once, his foot under the table moving up and down impatiently, and when no jeopardizes seemed to catch his attention (for now) he tore a piece of paper from his notebook, quickly scrabbling something on it.

* * *

When Hitsugaya heard the soft thud of something landing on his desk, he lifted his eyes from his book very, very reluctantly, wondering for a minute whether some kamikaze had tried to aim at the teacher (who was currently writing something on the board with his back facing the class) and by some fluke, missed. As expected, a tiny ball of paper was recovering quickly from its journey, the trepidation already dying off against the hard wooden surface of the writing table. Toushiro contemplated the round object for a moment with what appeared to be sincere hostility, then glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the class to see who was the culprit of this little crime. It didn't take long to spot the familiar crown of orange hair, sticking out at the back of the room in attempts for its owner to see what was happening and the genius couldn't help the puzzled arch of his brows as he realized what this could mean. _Ah, is this what the whole deal is about? _Desisting the urge to chuckle at the scene, Hitsugaya quickly spun around and grabbed a hold of the piece of paper, opening it under the desk.

_I have a mathematical problem for you, smarty-pants. At what time of the day should the object I. meet object T. that is running at an average speed for his usual morning jog, so the two objects can have breakfast before school? Answer the question by also estimating the exact place where the two can meet, as well as the suitable hour._

Toushiro bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing out loud and after glancing at the teacher to make sure he was still very much concentrated on whatever he was writing on the board, the prodigy pulled the paper on his desk. He spread the wrinkled page the best he could and wrote down his answer hastily:

_Well, if object I. can get his lazy ass out of the bed, both of them could just go jogging together instead of making insane plans to meet at insane hours… _He hurried to ball the note again and turned around, estimating the distance in his head before throwing the note in Ichigo's direction. It landed right in front of the carrot-top and Toushiro saw him quickly grab the thing and pull it out of sight. A tiny furrow of the taller male's brows informed Toushiro that his reply had been seen and contented with his achievement, Hitsugaya turned around, going back to his previous occupations. Several minutes passed and nothing happened, this causing the short student to shift in his place uncomfortably. Had he, maybe, been too harsh with Kurosaki? He knew for a fact things sounded differently when written on paper rather than spoken and this was one of the many reasons why he didn't like chatting online. If people weren't used to his usual bitterness, there was no saying what they could assume from his remarks… And for a prodigy, Hitsugaya tended to put very little thought into how people would feel if he said this or that...

_What's taking you so long, dammit!_

Yes, ok, so_ maybe_ he kindda liked Ichigo. The carrot-top had spunk and despite proving to be quite clumsy and unrefined in a number of departments, he made up for it all with heart and honesty. Things that the boy hadn't even realized how much he needed. Or missed. With Gin…

_Thud!_

Looking around, Toushiro promptly spotted the familiar crumpled page next to his foot and hurried to pick it up, a wave of relief spreading across his insides soothingly as he unfolded the paper and looked at what was written inside it. _Gee, Toushiro, this is the worst hand-writing I've ever seen! It took me forever to decipher all the words and quite frankly, I thought you'd be one of those people who write with meticulous, clear letters. You know, to match your prissy character... But anyhow! Back to the math problem. My lazy ass is ready to oblige, but how about we change the view a little? There's an awesome field next to my house, how do you feel about going there after school? I have something to talk to you about… Soccer stuff. Or maybe not so much…_

Toushiro rubbed his brow with his thumb for a minute, the soft smile on his face quickly turning into a wicked smirk as he decided to mess with the carrot-top's head a little.

_This field better be really _nice_ and _big_, otherwise I don't see how I'll be able to solve your _problem_._

* * *

The field was empty that afternoon, which was a fairly good thing.

Ichigo decided to take it slow till he figured exactly how to pick up the subject. Jogging was indeed a good distraction and apparently Toushiro had absolutely no problem talking while running, his feet moving lightly and swiftly under his small body with what seemed to be slim to none effort whatsoever. Kurosaki couldn't say the same about himself, though, as several laps later he was hardly able to do anything other than breath heavily, while his diminutive companion was having the laugh of his life, running backwards in front of the carrot-top and teasing him about-… well, pretty much everything. Surprisingly, Ichigo didn't feel nearly as impaired as he assumed he would, the slightly playful flicker in the captain's eyes serving as enough of a reason for him not to take the situation seriously.

"Gods, I can't believe I took such a sluggish, slothful creature on my team." Toushiro gibed, putting his hands behind his back a she kept running backwards, eyes never once leaving the other, currently uncomfortably sweating student. "I bet you can't even defend yourself because you're so out of breath."

Gauging the few meters of distance between them and the fact that Hitsugaya had let his guard down, Ichigo allowed a small smirk to graze his lips.

"In a minute… you'll be the one… needing defense."

"What?"

Pushing himself one last time, Ichigo launched forward and before the other boy had had time to comprehend what was going on, he was brought to the ground, Kurosaki's larger and heavier body pinning the captain down with ease. Taking in the shocked, wide-eyed expression of the smaller male, the carrot-top let a giant grin split across his face as he held the boy's wrists to his sides, taking a couple of minutes to regain his breathing.

"Any clever remarks now?" the carrot-top teased, shifting a little so he wasn't crushing the slimmer body with his weight. "I feel like Willy the coyote, _finally_ getting a hold of the roadrunner."

"You cheated!" Hitsugaya rebuffed, eyes still large and surprised, the annoyance somehow failing to emerge as he gazed up at the taller student hovering above him. He paused for a moment, then his features almost magically rearranged themselves in a sort of browned-off expression as he spoke again, his voice growing just a little bit thicker: "You do realize we're in the middle of a soccer field and you stink, right?"

Ichigo couldn't help it but burst laughing at the statement, his guffaw just a little bit choked around the edges due to his breathing still being quite uneven.

"So, why did you bring me here? You said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

The laughter died a little in his throat, replaced by a sudden wave of heat that had nothing to do with the jogging. Opening his mouth to say something, Ichigo found himself yelping instead as a couple of cold raindrops landed on the overheated skin on the back of his neck.

"Oh, shit! It's raining!" the carrot-top exclaimed, quickly scrambling to his feet and giving a hand to a slightly bewildered Toushiro. In no more than 5minutes the hope for a light drizzle was murdered cruelly as the water started pouring in almost blinding drapes on their heads, causing them both to run for cover. Fifteen minutes later they had reached Ichigo's house and busted inside, both soaking wet from the little disaster, the captain's hair hanging low and limp around his face and his clothes so drenched they were leaving wet trails on the floor.

"Don't worry, my family's not home."

"Bathroom." Hitsugaya managed, kicking his shoes off and attempting to wipe the water from his eyes so he could see better.

"Upstairs to, second door to the left." Ichigo said and the captain nodded, making a few steps towards the staircase, only to stop and turn around, a mix of curiosity and a tad bit of impatience crossing his features.

"Won't you just tell me what you wanted to say already?" he urged tucking a dripping wisp of hair behind his ear. "Just say it, you've been keeping me on tenterhooks for hours."

Ichigo paused for a moment, his mouth twisting pensively to the side. Then he just blurted:

"Do you remember what I asked you to do for me on the party? When you were drunk?"

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**_A/N: Review. And be very nice :)_**


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Yeaaah, sorry about the late and not-so-long update, but hey! School year's ending, I have a lot of stuff on my mind... I hope I didn't disappoint you with this chapter... There's no excuse for being unoriginal. You're all lovely though! Thank you for the awesome reviews and the attention, I was sincerely touched. :)**_

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A distant thunder tore the obscure sky somewhere far, far away, but the sound vibrated even in the house as Hitsugaya placed his hand on the staircase railing, leaning against it carefully. His other hand reached to tuck a lock of dripping hair behind his ear but the gesture was somewhat absent, hardly sinking below the surface of the genius's consciousness.

"You, um… you're talking about-" the boy cleared his throat, brows furrowing in a slightly restless scowl. Somewhere behind the depths of his jade orbs something flashed, a shadow of the needed chunk of memory, and then he cleared his throat, distaste quickly twisting his features. "Oh. _Oh_."

That was quite… ugh, unclear.

"You know, Kurosaki…" Toushiro began, face irritatingly unreadable as he looked up, brows arched gracefully under the thin, almost transparent shroud of moist white hair. "That '_enquiry_' is probably a permanent member of the Taking-Advantage-Of-Drunk-People column. I should be kicking your ass out of your own house for that this very second."

"But you aren't." Ichigo supplied, a mix of incredulity and hope molding his features as he took a faltering step forward, chocolate orbs glued on the shorter student anxiously. Sure, pulling that card out was a foul, vile, abhorrent, _disgusting_ move, one that spoke only equally foul, vile, abhorrent and _disgusting_ things about his honorouble persona but it was worth the shot, seeing us the carrot-top had quite chivalrous ultimate intentions. His biggest fear till this moment had been that by raising the subject he would never have the chance to get his point across before he fell victim to Toushiro's rage and was sliced in two meticulously equal pieces. Truthfully, at the party, when the prodigy's mind was all but a thick mush of malfunctioning brain cells, it had seemed like quite a good idea to try and lure the captain into going along with it. But that was back then, and back then Ichigo had very little idea of what he was doing or who he was dealing with. It was different now and, as much as the carrot-top regretted it and at the same time _didn't_, the purpose of such request had died along with Hitsugaya's reluctance to fulfill it at that very night. Kurosaki could recall very vaguely what he had whispered in the captain's ear, and not because he had had to deal with the consequences of an inebriated mind at the time, but more likely because a lot of other, much more important things had followed that petty interaction. He had tried to be sleek about what he was asking, so he had voiced something around the idea of wanting to see the all too famous 'dragon tattoo' on the boy's back. The core of what he _actually_ wanted was to get the smaller male alone and, eventually, less clothed, which, considering the amount of alcohol Toushiro had consumed would be quite easy. Just not entirely noble.

"True." Came the slightly hesitant retort and Kurosaki quickly snapped back to reality. "What I'm going to do now depends solely on what your explanation about all this is going to be."

"You want to know why I asked you while you were drunk?"

"I want to know why you're asking me this_ now_."

"Ah." Ichigo uttered, a teasing smirk twisting the edges of his lips as he sauntered his way across the hallway to stand in front of the smaller male. If he was going to step right into the lion's cave, the least he could do was derive some sort of entertainment from it. "So your intentions are to thoroughly humiliate me. How nice."

The carrot-top could tell by the tiny, slightly strained scowl that Toushiro was not very fond of the little digression but the prodigy just jerked his shoulders up in a tiny shrug, buying them a couple of more minutes of silence.

"I understand why you'd go out of your way and ask for something this stupid on a party… On _that_ party in particular. I was drunk, you were a fresh face in the crowd, and I was just a stranger to you." The boy pointed out patiently, remaining completely immobile despite the ever so fluent way Ichigo's hand landed on the staircase railing, just a couple of inches away from where the pale fingers were gripping the metal. "But you know me better now, you know what my answer to such a request would be… So why would you even _try_… That's what I don't get."

Ichigo blinked, slight confusion settling on his face before the realization hit him and he nearly laughed.

"Oh… Oh, wait, that's not-"

"What exactly do you expect from me, Kurosaki?" Hitsugaya cut him off, a tight, hardly amused smile stretching on his face as he lifted his hands with his palms upturned questioningly "I don't even change at the same time as my football team and you expect me to undress in front of you just because you thought it would be an interesting experience?"

"That's exactly it, Toushiro, I _don't_." urged by the growing uneasiness on the smaller one's face, Ichigo continued impudently, this time leaning a little over the shorter student. "I want to trade that for another… _favour_."

Hitsugaya's eyes widened almost comically at the statement, his lips parting slightly as the usual correction of the informal address the carrot-top used just got lost somewhere along the way to his tongue. Feeling the taller male move a little bit forward, he instinctively tried to back away, only to reel backwards when the back of his legs hit the edge of the first step of the staircase. A long arm had wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against the larger body so fast, his breath hitched.

"So… How about a kiss instead, hm?" Ichigo whispered, the texture of his voice velvet soft, almost like a purr as his breath grazed against Toushiro's lips. The smaller boy swallowed audibly, eyelids falling half the way to cover his eyes as he made no move to pull away despite the uncomfortable feeling of his cold, soaking wet clothing pressed against Kurosaki's equally damp ones.

And at that moment destiny decided to give them an electricity black out.

_Flashback:_

_It was Monday again, which meant that Ichimaru was day shift and would most certainly spend the first couple of hours of the morning being bored out of his mind. It was ridiculous that a bar would start working at 10am since almost no one came at this hour but as long as he could slack off, Gin had no complaints. Unlike when he was working during the night, the daylight could provide a convenient atmosphere for spending your free time: namely by reading books, solving newspaper puzzles or, in the boy's case – catch up with compulsory summer work…_

_While not being a particularly diligent student, Ichimaru had always been able to talk himself out of a tough situation. The last product of one such negotiation was his nearly miraculous not-failing-math deal with his teacher. Basically at the end of the year he had managed to convince his quite soft-hearted professor that he'd put some serious effort into catching up during the summer. The outcomes? He had pretty much the longest homework in the existence of the world to do during his vacation – a whole book of complicated problems that he'd have to present at the beginning of the next school year. And as much as it bothered him that he had to pay any sort of attention to absolutely pointless school work, he had no choice. Which was why this was exactly what he was currently doing – sitting on the front step of the bar with a pen in his hand and a chequered notebook in his lap, his brows locked in a frustrated scowl as he tried to figure out what to do with all this seemingly _unrelated_ information._

"_Hey, Gin, mind giving me a hand here?" came one of his colleague's voice and the fox let out an irritated sigh, cursing his job mentally as he placed his notebook and the pen on the pavement beside him. He was at the back of the bar in less than half a minute, getting engaged into chair carrying and arrangement almost instantly while the obnoxious teen that had called him hummed the most ridiculous song ever to try and 'lighten the mood'. Grumbling under his breath, Ichimaru committed himself to the fascinating task of being a stumper-horse and clamped his mouth shut despite the series of insults that pressed against his lips, hoping in vain that the silence would give the other waiter a hint that this dialog was unwanted. About twenty minutes later the task was completed successfully and Gin headed back to his place, already preparing himself for headaches that the math problems were promising to provide._

_As it turned out, that proved to be quite unneeded._

"_What the hell are ya doin' 'ere?"_

Toushiro_, because that was how the guy in the car had called the white-haired teen, merely glanced at Gin, a freshly lit cigarette bouncing almost teasingly between his lips as he went back to scanning the content of the fox's notebook absently. He was sitting at the exact same place Ichimaru had been occupying awhile ago, his skinny, jeans-clad legs outstretched lazily as he brazenly and without a single hint of discomposure scrambled a circumspect net of numbers and symbols all around the page. The sleeves of the neat, simple white shirt the boy was wearing, were rolled to the elbows, presenting a pair of long, pale forearms to the vicious licks of the sunrays, as well as three fading circle burn scars on the inner sides of one of them._

"_Apparently I was wrong to assume that the material for the students from the higher grades is more of a challenge." Toushiro mumbled flatly, pausing to take a drag from his cigarette before quickly snatching it from his lips and looking up at the now slightly exasperated Ichimaru. "You don't look like you go to a school of retards, though…"_

"_Tha's cuz I don'." Gin stated dryly as he jerked his notebook away from the boy's grip, casting a brief glance at what was written there only to look away acidly. "Mommy neva' told ya not ta touch other people's stuff?"_

_Hitsugaya's brows twitched a little in what appeared to be a very vague form of uneasiness before he looked away, one arm pulling his leg to his chest as he propped his chin on his knee pensively._

"_Mommy never told you to regard your possessions?"_

"_Hm, ya think yer very smart, don' cha?" Gin teased, his grin faltering just a little as he watched the uneven swirl of idle fumes that the poisonous stick in the boy's hand produced. "Tha's not a label I'd put on a thirteen-year old who gets high before noon."_

_Hitsugaya chuckled at that statement, eyes still focused on something in the distance as he flexed his apparently slightly stiff shoulders a little._

"_Relax, it's just tobacco." He uttered softly, probably a weird attempt to appease the other male. Above him, Ichimaru merely clicked his tongue, one hand reaching to take a firm hold of the smaller one's arm._

"_An' once again, what are ya **doin'** 'ere?" Gin enquired, yanking Toushiro to his feet rather harshly despite the indignant grunt that escaped the boy's lips at the rough treatement. "I thought I told ya ta stay away."_

"_It's not big deal, okay?" Hitsugaya snapped, pulling himself abruptly from the fox's grasp. "I work across the street. Gee."_

"_Across the-?" sliding his slit eyes from the boy's now rather irritated scowl, Gin turn to follow the mentioned direction, features shaping into an incredulous grimace as he spotted a small bookshop, squeezed at the bottom of a ramshackle two-storey building. It was the type of little stores, so insignificant and devoid of any specific shine in size and appearance, that even the slightest ray of sunshine seemed to be too extravagant for them. Charming in a very peculiar, quaint manner, it was also one of those places that seemed to be able to capture the attention of very few chosen ones, often people who hadn't even planned on entering before seeing the place. People _un_like Ichimaru. And most definitely not people who spent their nights inhaling the fumes of good-quality marihuana. "As if. Ya don' work there."_

_This time Toushiro looked sincerely taken aback, his hand with the still smoking cigarette dropping by his side as he let his mouth twist into an uneven line of honest distaste._

"Excuse_ me?" he asked, his voice now almost menacingly low as he eyed the man before him under a pair of exquisitely arched white brows. "And how, if I may ask, do you believe you have the right to claim something like that when you don't know the first thing about me?"_

_Refusing to trust the illogical twinge in his gut, Ichimaru let out an audible sigh, a vivid sign of his quite obvious lack of desire to continue this conversation._

"'_ve never seen ya enter that store or leave it." He stated bluntly, with the expertise of a man who had spent many night and mornings wandering before the bar in search for something better to do than just watch the occasional person walk by._

"_That's because I live on the second floor, you moron!" Hitsugaya flared viciously, his hand with the cigarette shooting up to his lips almost instantly to satisfy the urgent yearning for the bitter poison. "I go through the friggin' back door!"_

"_An' ya're 'ere right now because…?" the fox drew on questioningly, a stubborn look crossing his face as he gestured towards the bookshop. "Slackin's part o' bein' a good worker?"_

"_Lunch break." Came the now candidly angered bark as the boy stepped forward, flicking the only half-used cigarette to the side carelessly. "Or smoke break, if you may. And it's not like it's flooding with customers, okay?"_

_Ichimaru shoved his notebook under his arm before letting both his hands worm their ways into his pockets heedlessly._

"_So…" he began in a deliberately lazy drawl " Ya're tryin' ta tell me ya go ta work durin the day, take up the role of the goody-goody boy and then magically transform inta a drug addict that takes off to venturous quests durin' the night?"_

"_How is that so hard to believe?"_

"_An' what?" Ichimaru sneered, nearly chuckling as he leaned forward a little "Mommy's watchin' through the window when dark falls ta make sure yer friends pick ya up in time?"_

_Hitsugaya's eyes visibly darkened at the comment, head shaking in denial as he tried to keep his voice down despite the sharp jolts of searing hot frustration that spread across his body._

"_You don't know what you're talking about." he ground out, his jaw nearly aching because of how hard he was clenching it "I need the money, okay? I _have_ to work something, and no one other than our obese, greedy landlord would give a job to a kid, so I have to take what I can get for half the payment!"_

"_Really? An' yer completely sure ya don' jus' go round whoring yerself fo' the next dose?"_

_The statement all but had Toushiro reeling in shock, eyes wide and open as he stepped back unsteadily, fingers opening by his sides in obvious disbelief. The reaction, the genuine expression of unprepared, rife hurt was all it took the taller male to realize he was gravely wrong. But before he could come back to his senses, smooth the effects of the affront, Hitsugaya had wrapped his arms around his waist protectively, a thin layer of moisture accumulating in his eyes as he nearly chocked out his next words._

"_You know what? I just came to give you back your stupid lighter because I forgot to the other day and I have no idea why I didn't just do that and leave. I guess I was mistaken to assume you'd be the type of person one could have an interesting conversation with…" the pause that followed was only brief enough for the boy to take a breath and gather a few pieces of his composure as he continued in a sort of rushed, nearly slurred fashion. " Believe it or not, I'm not an underage prostitute. I work because I have no dad to do it for my family and yes, in the evening I do try to get away from it all by smoking pot with a bunch of losers. But in the morning I'm all back to this crap and my drunker of a mother, who has nothing better to do than throw empty bottles at my head from her place of being sprawled half-dead on the kitchen floor. So excuse me if I do not complete your expectations, I hope you don't have the misfortune to talk to me again." With that Hitsugaya pulled Gin's lighter out of his pocket and dropped it on the ground between them, hurrying to turn around and jog across the street to the bookstore before the taller male had had any time to comprehend what was happening._

_A little later when Ichimaru took a look at what the boy had written in his notebook, he had a hard time believing that a thirteen-year old had been able to solve more than 15 problems of highest difficulty over the span of 20minutes._

_End of Flashback._

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_**A/N: Yep, sorry to those who expected Hitsu to be a hooker. He's 13 after all... give the kid a break. XD**  
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	13. Chapter 13

**_A/N: Yes, I'm alive! Barely, since I had to take an English language exam on Satuday, but still - quite alive. xD I feel a bit out of shape from all this studying - I mean, really, my head is sort of swimming all the time though I'm most definitely not sick. I also have a bunch of things to do but for some reason I can't seem to be able to bring myself to do that. I need to start thinking about letters of motivation and - blah - it's killing me to realize that I don't have all that much of an outstanding school life to share. Well, at least I'm short. Maybe I'll become the next Napoleon. *stupid laughter* ...Anyhow. I've turned these author notes into an update on my personal troubles, for which I'm very sorry. I'll now go.  
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"I think this is a sign." Came a small murmur from the darkness and Ichigo's brows shot up in an incredulous expression that he knew the shorter teen couldn't possibly make out in their current and very much devoid of light predicament. He felt his lips curl up in a disbelieving scoff, but he bit back the urge to make a remark as he heard a soft shuffle somewhere before him and a pair of hands landed on his chest, pushing him back just enough to make a point. "This isn't a good idea, Kurosaki."

"And why not?" the carrot-top enquired smoothly, stepping back obediently to give Toushiro some space "About that thing at the party, I swear-"

"No, no, I-" Hitsugaya cleared his throat and by the faint movement that could actually be detected, Ichigo assumed the other one was running his fingers through his damp hair – a fidget gesture, meant to cover up the fact that the genius was struggling to come up with a decent answer. "I'm your captain." He finished lamely and the strawberry huffed.

"So were you to Ichimaru."

"Yes." Toushiro agreed in a small voice as he tentatively tried to get around the taller male and away from the confines of the narrow staircase. "And look how that ended."

The waft of gentle, almost imperceptible scent that was purely Hitsugaya washed over the taller student, intensifying for a second as the genius came closer and fading as the steps hesitantly moved towards the kitchen (where the light was supposed to be better due to the windows).

"Do you have any candles?"

"Nope." Ichigo replied, although he was pretty sure they did, he just didn't feel like launching into a quest right now and letting Toushiro distract them from the topic of their current half-bicker. Taking a deep breath, the carrot-top slowly followed his classmate, grateful to the quite regular flashes of light that squeezed through the curtains from every passing car's headlights. "I thought you were heading for the bathroom." He pointed out as he watched the still soaking boy sit down gingerly on one of the chairs, the water still dripping off every cell of his body. It wasn't like Ichigo insisted on losing the kid from sight but that didn't mean that he wasn't slightly anxious about Hitsugaya catching a cold or feeling uncomfortable… A towel and some wringing of those clothes might've been a good idea…

"I decided against it till the power comes back. No use wandering aimlessly in a house that I don't know. And I doubt I'll see anything in the bathroom, right? Since you don't have any candles, or other source of illumination…?" the last part sounded too much like a suspicious enquiry but Ichigo decided to ignore it, choosing instead to seat himself in the chair next to his guest in a way that left both of them sitting sideway, with their knees pointing towards each other.

"I want to talk about this." The carrot-top stated earnestly, watching carefully as a small puff escaped Toushiro's lips and a thin white eyebrow quirked in a half teasing fashion.

"Gee, you're more of a girl that I thought…" Hitsugaya noted but Ichigo saw right threw the badly constructed attempt to throw him off track.

"I'm serious. If we leave it like this, you'll be all awkward and reluctant to discuss this tomorrow." When Hitsugaya opened his mouth to protest, Ichigo hurried to cut him off with a small wave of his hand "You _already_ are. Better sort this out now."

"You want to talk about relationship stuff while the power's out and there's a storm outside?" came the incredulous question and the carrot-top nodded, squaring his shoulders as he tried to look as directly as possible into the dim area where he knew Toushiro's eyes were supposed to be. A flash of light splashed across the room for a trice, the modicum amount of time giving Ichigo just a flash of the boy's face but what he saw etched into the pale features was enough. This was bothering Hitsugaya far more than he wanted to let on.

"Yes."

A grumble, then Toushiro's hand landed on the table with a surprisingly loud bang, palm flat on the surface in what seemed to be slightly annoyed manner.

"Fine." The genius agreed curtly, almost hostilely "What do you want to know?"

Ichigo bit the side of his mouth, a hue of anxiety seeping into his system as he tried to process the accumulating heap of questions down and sift out only the most vital ones. Ask the right thing while he still could.

"Is it Ichimaru?"

Even in the quivering embrace of the darkness, he could see those incredibly large jade eyes widen, flabbergasted in the most compromising, yet distant way possible. Toushiro definitely hadn't expected that, hadn't been prepared to tackle the question and it was both pleasing and a bit worrisome. A defensive flood of lies was the last thing that Ichigo wanted right now, especially since, for once, he knew he had hit the nail on the head.

"_What_?"

"Ichimaru Gin. Is he the reason why you're so diffident and unwilling to even try? Because you still have feelings for him?"

Hitsugaya pulled back sharply at those words, a look of slight animosity falling across his face so suddenly Ichigo nearly jumped back himself. He could almost hear the thud of each brick as his last statement started erecting a thick wall between the two of them. _Wrong turn, wrong, wrong, wro-_

"What I feel or don't feel fails to be any of your business!" Toushiro snapped, a glint of teeth shining in the darkness as the boy slid his arm from the table and in his lap to join his other one. "You don't know anything about what happened between Gi-… Ichimaru and me!"

"Of course." Ichigo consented immediately, letting his voice assume the most appeasing tone possible. "I know that and I wouldn't have it any other way… But you claim to have moved on. And it definitely… doesn't seem that way to me."

"I have. I mean-…" Hitsugaya paused, a small shaky sigh leaving his lips and the carrot-top saw the pair of jade orbs flutter shut for a moment. "To an extent… To an extent I probably never will, _he_ probably never will, that's why-"

"He said something about me, didn't he? About the team and me taking his place?" The supposition was far-fetched, and brusque, and quite vain too, but Ichigo had let the words slip – firm and strangely certain – before he could even stop himself. Once they were out, he suddenly felt stupid and incredibly brazen and he closed his eyes, expecting Toushiro to yell at him or shoot him down with some snarky remark for the audacity. Nothing of the sort happened. Letting himself peek from under his eyelids Ichigo was surprised to find Hitsugaya looking down at his lap in what the carrot-top assumed was a guilty expression. "_Fuck_, he _did_? What did he do? Did he threaten you? Did he-"

"No!" Toushiro cut him off quickly, a hint of panic in his voice for a second before he cleared his throat, swiftly regaining control over his composure. "He just-… I don't know, he didn't exactly-…" he exhaled in what appeared to be a strange mix of desperation and annoyance. "Kurosaki, you don't _know_ what he's done for me. I _owe_ him, I can't just go and-… And do _this-_" he pointed his index finger back and forth between the two of them, a frantic and slightly shaky gesture, aiming to make everything clearer before he eventually finishing with as much finality as he could possibly muster "-to him!"

"Dammit, Toushiro!" Ichigo groaned, resisting the urge to slap his forehead in frustration, the tone that he used apparently imposing enough to stop the shorter male from correcting him for the address "Are you going to stay single for the rest of your life just to make sure he doesn't accidentally end up being dissatisfied with you _not _being miserable?"

"You don't get it…"

"Like how?" voice dripping with sarcasm, Ichigo tapped his fingers against the smooth surface of the table next to him. "What do I not get about you willingly turning into a spinster?"

A small pause followed afterwards and in the sudden quietness of the room the carrot-top easily heard the audible, awkward gulp that the captain forced down his throat.

"I know him, Kurosaki." Toushiro whispered softly. "He's gonna take it out on you. He _will_ find a way, and I can't risk that. I can't risk losing your company out of selfishness… It's not worth it."

Letting out a frustrated growl, Ichigo had reached forward and grasped the boy's shoulders before he could stop himself, the outlines of the widened jade eyes suddenly quite clear even in the dim light.

"It _is_ worth it. _You_'re worth it. I want to give this a chance." he insisted. "I can't have you backing off for such a strange, inconsistent logic, okay? I can't. And you know that I won't. If you don't want to try, if you really don't_ feel _anything towards me, then fine. I'll back off." Peering deeply into the glowing set of orbs, Ichigo nodded his head determinately and added softly "Just say the words, and I'll be gone."

_Say it!_

"I-" the syllables felt like glue against Toushiro's tongue and he swallowed with difficulty, trying again. "I don't-"

Ichigo's heart skipped a beat, his hold on the thin shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to urge the other one to finish. The air felt thick between them, slow, stagnant, almost as if it was pushing against both of their chests to keep this strange, unnatural situation from reaching its end. A small, quivering breath whooshed from Toushiro's lips and the carrot-top felt his stomach drop in his feet.

"I can't." the answer was timid, ashamed even and as Hitsugaya looked up, he could grasp quite well the vivid look of regret on the boy's face. "I _do _think I… kindda like you. I just-"

Refusing to hear the next ridiculous monsoon of uncertainties, Ichigo leaned forward, capturing the pair of smooth lips in a kiss.

_Flashback:_

_Drumming his fingers on the polished surface of the bar, Gin realized that for the first time since God knew how many year, he was truly, genuinely beyond frustrated. It had been three days since he had last spoken to the boy and against all logic, he couldn't chase away the feeling of uneasiness and… what's this?... regret?... every time he thought about their little encounter. And think he did, much more often than he was willing to admit, his slit eyes now constantly trailing across the surroundings to glue on the tiny bookshop across the street. He spent hours looking at the place now, straining to see past the heaps of novels, encyclopedias and magazines arranged so snuggly behind the thick window glass, he was trying to make out a silhouette, a figure at the back, a movement behind a counter, _anything_. Gin wanted to catch a glimpse of the peculiar little teen and the fact that he hadn't done anything about it yet, even if the solution was just a couple of meters away, was scraping his thin, thin patience layer by layer with each passing hour. Sooner or later it was going to be _too_ much and he knew it, the fact making him just increasingly more agitated to do something. What was he going to say? Apologize to the local druggy for hurting his feelings? Thank him for helping him out with his math? Fucking _pathetic_! He was doing neither, not now, _not in a million years_ because he had absolutely _no_ interest in this Toushiro kid whatsoever and if anyone thought the opposite, they could go fuck themselves for all he cared!_

"'_m takin' a break." Ichimar announced, never even glancing at the bartender as he descended from the tall chair he had been occupying and rushed out of the bar and across the street before he could properly process what he was doing._

_The bookshop's door didn't ring when he pushed it to enter and he was fairly grateful for that because as he made his way inside the place a faint murmur reached his ears._

"_-Nah, Grimm, they're almost done. I just have a couple of more things to look at, I'll give it to you when you come tonight… You're coming, right?... What did I tell you about your stupid sex jokes? No, it's not charming in the slightest…" Toushiro's small figure emerged from behind one of the bookshelves, one hand holding a bulky mobile phone to his ear as the other one pressed a pack of ice to his the side of his forehead. "I don't need you to kiss anything to make it better, it's just a small bump, she was too wasted to hit right. Shut up. Do I need to remind you were you stand in my life? I'm quite fine on my own, thank you very-" Hitsugaya stopped dead in his track, his eyes widening ever so slightly as they fell upon Gin's figure, the shocked expression quickly twisting into a scowl. "I'll call you later, Grimm, something came up."_

_Hanging up and stuffing his mobile into his pocket, Toushiro wrapped his free arm around his middle, his other hand still pressing against the abused spot on his head as he eyed Ichimaru up and down._

"_What are you doing here?"_

_Gin's eyes traveled down the slim, almost impossibly skinny figure before coming to a halt on the small badge that was attached to Hitsugaya's white shirt._

"_Guess ya weren' lying bout workin' 'ere, huh?" Ichimaru noted, cocking his head to the side with slight amusement that had Toushiro's frown just deepening._

"_Is that what you came to check? Good for you. You can hit the road now."_

"_Mah, mah, not so fast, you're being very unwellcomin' ta customers."_

"_You're not a customer, you're an asshole, and as such I have absolutely no interest in speaking to you." Hitsugaya stated bluntly, making his way to the counter and plopping down in his chair. The tiny dry smile that twisted his thin pale lips was definitely not an amiable one but Gin didn't seem to me affected in the slightest by that as he approached the boy. "Honest, I won't be offended if you leave."_

"_What happened to yer head?" Gin asked, gesturing towards the pack of ice with a quirked eyebrow. Hitsugaya's eyes immediately darkened, lips pursing in a tight line as he gave the taller male a look of utter disbelief for the insultingly lightly expressed impudence._

"_Well… None of your fucking business. How's that for an answer?" Toushiro snapped, removing the ice from his head and dropping it in the bin beside his legs with frustration. "Leave?"_

"_So hostile, 'm offended." Ichimaru said smoothly, his grin widening a little as he made let his fingers graze against slightly jagged edge of the counter casually. "Are ya gonna be a lil more inclined ta talk if I bought a book? I see ya're in need fo' any type of customers right now."_

_Hitsugaya narrowed his eyes, teeth baring a little as he hissed lowly:_

"_You can go to hell!"_

"_Ya'll be there befo' me cuz I dun get high." Seeing the way Toushiro's features twisted in anger, Gin quickly added, smashing the raising chuckle down with some effort for the sake of at least _some _maintenance of this joke of civility they were having. "Fine, not funny. But I haven' come ta fight with ya."_

"_And what, may I ask, _have_ you come for?"_

_Ichimaru paused, his fingertips dancing across the counter before him for a minute as he contemplated his answer._

"_Talk?"_

_Hitsugaya shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so. His pale face was distant, clear though, and below the peculiarly thick mask of composure and annoyance, Gin was surprised to see the still smoldering wounds of the hurt he had caused._

"_It doesn't work like this. You can't just spit all your disgust on me one moment and then come back, claiming you're interested in my company." The boy pointed out, lips tightening a little as he finished and in the faded shine of the jade orbs Ichimaru spotted disappointment. __**What is this? **__Disappointment, hurt, maybe resignation? It was something that Gin had both expected to see and had deeply hoped he wouldn't, because insulting somebody for no reason – someone he hardly even knew – wasn't supposed to affect the taller male as much as it did. And the faint shadows of the damage he had cost just seemed to make the situation even harder to swallow._

"_Ya're right." Gin had spoken the sentence way before he even realized what was leaving his mouth. "Ya're very much right not to want ta talk ta me. Actually, ya probably shouldn', cuz in tha best case 'm probably gonna end up pokin' in the wrong places again, but…" he paused, picking his next words carefully, tasting, savoring them for a few moments till he was sure he wanted to actually enunciate them "Fo' what it's worth, I _am_ sorry. Fo' misjudging ya." He paused. "Ya seem like a nice kid. Jus' one with some seriously fucked up life…"_

_For a couple of seconds there was nothing, Hitsugaya's eyes still digging deeply into his own as the boy tried to comprehend how sincere this all was. Then the hard, stern expression slowly dripped off Toushiro's face, softening the strained features and revealing something incredibly weary and forlorn underneath as he sighed._

"_It's okay." He said, smiling faintly. "Do you want to sit down, I can bring you a chair?"_

_End of Flashback._

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_**A/N: Do I need to remind you to review?**  
_


	14. Chapter 14

**_A/N: Ah, God, it's really late, why is it that I get into mood for writing in ungodly hours? _**

**_Anyhow, thank you all for the reviews you left! I was honestly touched by the attention and I hope I won't disappoint you._**

**_To the person who signed as lou - please don't write any reviews to me anymore, no one's forcing you to read and if you have anything you honestly want to discuss with me, at least have the decency of not being an anonymous chicken. __I'll be deleting your next reviews if they are as rude._**

**_Now, on to the rest of you, sorry for any possible mistakes and __also, I should let you know that there'll be a lemon some time soon. Yup, we're reaching that point of the story. For now, a little fluff for you. Be happy._**

* * *

Five days after that rainy night, Ichigo had turned into a regular occupant of cloud nine, occasionally soaring higher when the circumstances provided him with that chance. Like right now, he mused, barely resisting the urge to smirk against soft lips pressed persistently against his own, as he pretty much collapsed on one of the benches in the empty locker room, shamelessly pulling Toushiro along to straddle his lap. The pair of slim toned legs immediately found their way around the carrot-top's waist, sharp knees digging into the hard wooden facility on either side of the taller male as Hitsugaya rose a little and deepened the kiss with starvation that was hard to imagine in the seemingly reserved prodigy. A wave of heat splashed all over the orange-haired teen, the hot wet tongue inside his mouth rubbing against his own with determination that was both slightly unexpected and yet incredibly, _devastatingly_ arousing. It hadn't taken the carrot-top long to realize that Toushiro was an extremely sensual creature, reacting wantonly to the tiniest caress and the flimsiest touches as if he hadn't felt anything more carnal before. Ichigo thought that maybe he should've been surprised by this, baffled by how expertly the captain moved his lips upon his, or how certain his movements and strokes seemed even in the early stage that they had reached so far… but somehow he wasn't. The deep, smoldering light that appeared in the depths of the two jade pools, so open, so willing, the erotic arch of the slim body in the softest signs of delight and need, those were things that suited Hitsugaya too much. They filled him with life and spread an air of careless happiness around him in ways that stirred the heart deeper than Ichigo had ever imagined. He wondered sometimes, briefly, if this was how things had been before… If that was how the boy had looked and acted while dating Ichimaru. He thought, with a certain hint of understanding, that if his classmates had witnessed this side of Toushiro, even in its afterglow, or in its fading glory, there was now wonder that they were stumbling over each other's feet to try and become the cause of it. Costly as it could be (and somewhere in the bottom of his stomach Ichigo realized that this escapade of theirs wasn't going to go unnoticed), he was willing to promise the world to keep his new, _happier_ Hitsugaya all to himself. If it meant following the captain's conditions and turning their relationship into a secret, if it meant hiding, pretending, lying, so be it… As long as it meant having moments like this, it was fine.

Ichigo was willing to give it all.

A low groan rose in Toushiro's throat and he pulled away only for a second before latching himself back to the taller one, this time sucking almost cruelly on the strawberry's lower lip until the action elicited a moan of its own. The empty, slightly stuffy room seemed to respond to whatever was happening within its confines, because every sound, as soft as it was, sounded a thousand times louder, echoing debauchedly with enough force to send shivers down both of the sportsmen's spines. Whether because he was on his own territory or for some other reason, Hitsugaya seemed particularly teasing today, even slightly bossy as he moved his kisses down to the sensitive place right under Ichigo's ear, one hand ghosting briefly over the bulge in the carrot-top's pants before moving up again to bury in the mess of orange spikes. Reaching with both hands to squeeze the tight little ass before him and eventually drag the tortuously writhing prodigy closer, Kurosaki well-neigh whined when he was met with resistance.

"You haven't told anyone, have you?" the captain, managed, pulling away just enough to give the other one a questioning look. Moving his hands just a little lower to press against the fabric of the jeans just over the crease of Hitsugaya's backside, Ichigo shook his head mutely, the action being rewarded with a relieved smile. "Good boy."

"Do I get a prize?" the carrot-top asked, deliberately pushing his right hand under the edge of the other one's shirt to drag inquisitive fingers across the taut little stomach there, brown eyes looking up in the pair of jade ones hopefully. Feigning thoughtfulness for a moment, Toushiro let out a small '_hmm_' before slowly dismounting, legs sliding to wrap around Ichigo and hips pressing deliciously against the strawberry's ones in a way that caused them both to moan. Doing this here was like balancing on a rope meters above the ground without any safety precautions. It was wrong, dangerous and rather foolish, and for all those reasons also highly arousing. The soccer practice had ended long ago, making it quite unlikely for any of their teammates to barge in, but there were still teachers and janitors wandering the corridors at this hour and if any of them chose this particular moment to check on the locker rooms, they would be in lots of trouble. Trouble, that was apparently much more acceptable for the captain than the possibility of being seen holding hands with Ichigo. That, the carrot-top speculated with a hint of bitterness as he moved down from his partner's mouth towards the jaw-line, was a type of display that was apparently beyond unfathomable.

"Mind the neck." Hitsugaya reminded for the umpteenth time as he tried to maneuver himself away from the assaulting lips, only to have the taller male thrust his hips forward, rendering the genius speechless for a good couple of seconds. Placing his hands on the other sportsman's shoulders with the obvious intend to push him off, Toushiro merely succeeded in releasing a torn gasp when the fingers cupping his ass just squeezed harder, pressing their jeans clad erections even closer in a mix of throbbing ache and pleasure. "Kurosaki… _no hickies!_"

"'m not gonna leave any." came the half muffled retort as Ichigo dragged his tongue deliberately slowly along the protruding pale collar-bone in front of him. Allowing himself a tiny, if slightly incredulous moan, Hitsugaya shivered needily, growing completely lax in the other one's arms as warmth swirled around his body in a wave of delight that was oh so sinfully prompting him to let go… To just fuck the rest of the world and enjoy this treat, whatever it might cost him later.

_Mm, just like that…_

He could swear he was feeling fingers jam cotton in his head through his ears and it made him grin dazedly as the hand rubbing his stomach moved upwards to brush against a sensitive nipple. The gentle sort of adoration etched in both that movement as well as the tentative kisses that trailed along the length of his slender neck caused him to let out a breathless sigh, eyes falling closed lazily…

…Only to snap open seconds later when a familiar ringtone pierced the air.

"Ah, _damn_…" scrambling to get off Ichigo's lap, the captain nearly tripped over his own feet as he hurried to grab his mobile phone from the backpack he had left near the line of lockers. Vaguely, he detected a low grumble of disapproval coming from the carrot-top's direction but the moment he saw the name on the display, everything else was forgotten. Glancing apologetically at the taller student's still flustered and now just a little bit annoyed expression, Toushiro offered a quick: "It's my uncle." Before pressing the device to his ear.

* * *

Accepting that the mood was killed, Ichigo found himself raising both brows in slight amusement as he watched Toushiro try to speak in hushed voice, only to have to repeat everything he said several times to be heard. In any other situation, the carrot-top might've found the whole deal quite irksome – having your partner bail on you for a phone chat in the most heated moment was never particularly pleasant – but instead, he just placed his palms on the bench behind him and leaned back on them with a lazy smile on his face. It was kind of funny to see the genius try and preserve some sort of privacy to his conversation as he paced back and forth before the row of lockers, one hand pulling absently on his somewhat wrinkled shirt and the other combing restlessly the tousled strands around his neck. Ichigo contemplated the idea of telling the boy that he didn't care what he and his uncle were talking about - probably because he had hardly, if ever, heard anything about said uncle at all – but he eventually decided against it, leaving Hitsugaya to try and be discrete. Sure, the relationship between Toushiro and the older man was still a bit incomprehensible to the carrot-top, but that hardly gave him the right to interfere… As far as he knew, the adult traveled a lot, leaving his nephew on his own most of the time and what was most unusual in Ichigo's eyes, was that both of them seemed perfectly content with that arrangement. Whether because he had never even considered the possibility of not living with his father and sisters, or for some other, tradition-related reason, the taller student could not understand the basis on which one such family could even function properly… Yet questioning Toushiro about any of this had always felt strangely wrong. The boy never talked about his parents – and normal kids always ended up mentioning something on the family topic sooner or later – which made the carrot-top automatically assume the captain wasn't comfortable talking about them. Not at all.

Ichigo felt a small frown form on his face as he watched Hitsugaya listen to whatever the man on the other end of the line was telling him. He and Toushiro were _something_ now, weren't they? Exactly _what_ that something was, he wasn't sure, but it was definitely above friendship. And talking about things like this, personal issues, was a natural thing to do, because honestly? How could they expect to be close if they didn't even know the first thing about each other?

"Uncle's coming home tonight." Toushiro's voice cut through Ichigo's temporary daze and he perked up, already pushing himself off the bench. As he watched the smaller male swiftly gather his things in a preparation to leave, he spotted a small smile on the genius' lips and the sight sent a jolt of tingling warmth to the center of his chest.

"Someone seems happy." The carrot-top noted and Hitsugaya shot him and amused glanced from where he was zipping up his backpack on the floor.

"Sure, I haven't seen him in forever." The boy paused, chewing up on his bottom lip lightly for a moment before shrugging. "It can get a bit lonely at home."

Making a grimace like this had been some sort of personal umbrage, Ichigo stepped forward and pulled the shorter student to his feet, arms automatically wounding around the thin waist.

"Well, what am _I_ here for?"

"To annoy the hell out of me?"

"Ha." Ichigo stated dryly before his lips curled in a small smirk and he leaned down to place a quick peck on the captain's already swollen lips. "You love it."

"Cocky much." Toushiro flipped back with an arch of his brow as he reluctantly wriggled himself out of the taller one's grip. "I need to go though, uncle surprised me and now I need to clean up the mess that I happen to have been living in."

Ichigo resisted the urge to snort at that comment, the image of Hitsugaya's meticulously arranged home emerging in his consciousness like the cover of a magazine that he had always assumed was impossible to recreated in real life. In his mind there wasn't a way to honestly exist in such sterile atmosphere, not if you were determined to remain human and Toushiro's constant attempts to 'clean up' always seemed so awfully pointless. He couldn't fathom what the genius could possibly make tidier about that apartment, but he was okay letting him try. Even if it would've been so much better if Ichigo could witness and have a few laughs about it.

"I bet after a lifetime of messes, you uncle has given up on you." the carrot-top offered sarcastically and Toushiro gave him a nasty look before hoisting his backpack onto his shoulder.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. And on the side note," he rounded the taller male and stood in front of the door. "I haven't always lived with him, or in this town for that matter... You don't know that?"

"No…" trying to sound as casual as possible, Ichigo quickly jammed his things into his own backpack, eyes riveted on the captain the whole time. "You lived with your parents?"

"Just Mom," The edge of Hitsugaya's mouth quirked in a humorless smile as he recognized the next question in his teammate's look before it was even voiced, and added flatly. "She killed herself a few years ago."

* * *

"_Mmm, lemonade. Homemade?"_

"_From a machine." Ichimaru corrected dryly as he settled down next to Toushiro on the border of the sidewalk with a sizzling plastic cup of his own. The sun was blazing, hot and merciless above their heads, the noon heat grating against the exhausted core of the world as every living creature that could abscond the torture hid in the darkest, coolest places they could find. The streets were empty around them, scorching hot and sweating like the exposed flesh of a giant and the rare shades that marred this white-and-yellow horizon barely relived the pressure that had accumulated beneath this torturous veil of warmth. Spending their lunch breaks together, the way they always did recently, the two students had stolen the only decent spot left around the neighborhood, right under the magnificent embrace of a large, oak tree in front of Hitsugaya's bookstore. The stone underneath them did not feel unbearably scalding, but rather cold instead, gentle, and for that, they were both grateful._

_Letting one of his very peculiar little smirks form on his face, Toushiro chuckled and pulled a packet of M&Ms out of his jeans, before offering them generously to his friend._

"_Homemade." Hitsugaya announced sweetly just as the older student was opening his mouth to say something. Gin raised an unimpressed brow at that proclamation and Hitsugaya bit his lip in amusement, jolting the package up and down a little to remind him of his proposal. "By my own, skillful hands."_

_Shaking his head with condescension, the fox was about to reach for the candy with a very exaggerated browned off look on his face, when Hitsugaya suddenly adopted a pensive expression and snatched the thing away. _

"_Wait, no, I changed my mind. It's not fair to trade my homemade M&Ms for your low-quality lemonade." He stated, retrieving his hand farther away from the taller male with well-mastered seriousness that made his friend scowl. "Besides, didn't mommy tell you not to accept sweets from strangers?"_

"_Ya're no stranger. An' ya're thirteen. Means ya should be the worried one." Gin stated, reaching stubbornly over Toushiro's skinny body again, not so much because he really wanted the candy, but rather because suddenly the boy wouldn't give it. Stretching his arm even further in a way that made him lean slightly to the side, the smaller one just shook his head, a tiny mischievous smile twisting his lips as he let his eyes widen in a poor attempt to appear creepy and menacing._

"_I might've spiked them." He offered in a conspiratorial whisper, quickly shoving the plastic cup of lemonade between them to devour the rest of its content before he had managed to spill it. "I'm a non-trustworthy druggie with a big stash of pot."_

"_Right. An' ya've made the effort ta put drugs in those M&Ms cuz ya're evil like tha' an' ya want me on the same holey boat." Gin launched forward, nearly managing to reach his prize this time, but Toushiro was faster, somehow succeeding in maneuvering himself out from underneath the other man and teleporting his tiny body a few meters away, where he balanced teasingly on the border of the sidewalk. Raising a barely surprised brow, Ichimaru stood up as well, gaze glued on the boy before him with an expression that now screamed of determination. "While I'm deliberating how exactly ta torture ya when I get mah hands on ya, care ta explain how ya even manage to spare enough money ta pay fo'… yer fix."_

"_I don't pay for it." Hitsugaya retorted lightly, the small smile still on his face as he tucked the packet of candy into the back pocket of his jeans, eyes never once leaving the slowly advancing Gin. "I work for it. Remember Grimm?"_

"_Tha' guy tha' o'ways picks ya up?" the taller male asked, distaste obvious in his tone as he followed his friend's movements carefully, waiting for any abrupt movement whatsoever that would give him the chance to attack. "What 'bout 'im?"_

"_His father owns a few clubs around this town. Made poor Grimmy such a spoiled little brat, thinks he can have anything he wants." Toushiro paused, biting thoughtfully on the inside of his lower lip for a moment before shrugging his shoulders airily. "He can be very insisting because of it sometimes, it's scary." With that, he let a unusual, wicked grin spread across his face before ducking abruptly to his left in one of the side streets that immediately hid him from the other one's sight. Taking that as a sign that the game was on, Gin bolted after him in an instant, eyes finding the target much faster than he had anticipated. Choosing the most convenient and quick route, Ichimaru cut the distance between them within a couple of minutes, a few victorious meters separating him from the boy before Hitsugaya found his way behind a parked car. That significantly slowed down the hunt._

_"Oh, tha's nice, ya lil cheater."  
_

_Toushiro rounded the vehicle deftly and spun around to face the other male, the machine between them acting as a sort of a shield that would temporarily slow down the chase._

_"You want to hear the rest of it, or not?" the boy urged with a small bounce on his feet and Gin rolled his eyes, hand lifting in a small prompt for the other one to continue. "Anyway… Grimm wanted to drop out of school the moment he turned fifteen, he wanted to start working right away and kept nagging his dad about it, till the old man relented and told him okay, but only if he could manage taking care of one of the clubs as a job."_

_Leaning over the front of the car just opposite of Toushiro, the taller man thrummed his fingers on the dented paint a few times before making a move to the left, his friend instantly jumping to the right._

"_Problem is, Grimm can't deal with paperwork if his life depended on it."_

"_So, wha', ya're tellin' me ya're doin' his homework fo' 'im?"_

"_Some of it." Toushiro agreed, eyes directing thoughtfully at the sky for just one brief moment before they fell back on his friend. "It sure took me some time to get used to it, but I practically live in a library of a sort, I had texts to back me up. You'd be surprised how many books on the matter are gathering dust in the back of that bookstore. I'm not saying I'm doing things perfect, but it's not like the papers don't go though a check afterwards, and the whole point is just to keep Grimm's dad happy. If he's happy, Grimm's happy, and I'm happy. And I get a ride pretty much every time we go somewhere, so-"_

_Before he could finish, Gin had launched after him once again and with a small shout of surprise, Hitsugaya dashed in the opposite direction, swirling around trees, trash bins and squeezing his way between cars as fast as his feet could carry him, the whole exercise managing to last about fifteen minutes before the boy's smoking habit got the best of him. The lack of oxygen and the effort to suck it in his damaged lungs hit him unexpectedly, his muscles growing heavy and unresponsive like the ones of an old man and he was forced to slow down in a series of breathless gasps. He didn't even have the time to register the hand that grabbed his shoulder before he was turned around abruptly and pressed against the side of a building, Ichimaru's body pinning him securely against the brick wall as though the boy would actually try to escape if he wasn't held down. Releasing a weak gasp from the impact of his back against the cold rough surface, Toushiro chocked on a few laughs and pressed a hand to his chest, shallow pants escaping his lips as he looked down at the ground between them._

"_Ya kno', ya'd be quite fast if ya didn' smoke." Ichimaru pointed out with a very mild hint of reprimand in his tone and only then did the boy lift his eyes to notice that the other male was standing unusually close to him. Struggling a little to keep the smirk on his face, Toushiro shook his head and shoved lazily against the fox's chest, the movement meant as a soft reminder of how little space there was between them. Hitsugaya half expected the gesture to be the snap that Gin needed, the pull that'd bring him back to reality and tell him to jump back, and he was prepared for that, ready to laugh when the discomfort roused to his friend's face at the proximity that they had been sharing a moment ago… The chance to mock never came though, the solid torso before the boy remaining in place as though nothing had happened._

"_I'm not going to do any sports, so it doesn't matter." The boy stated, not really putting much thought in what he was saying, but rather speaking to fill in the silence before it had actually settled between them. His jade orbs flickered unconsciously to the fox's lips, the shock of registering how _attainable_ they seemed making him avert his gaze quickly, his focus quickly switching on not letting the nervous chuckle he knew was trying to burst through his mouth get its way. Whether because he had noticed the little slip or the uneasiness that radiated from his friend's body language, Gin's grin just widened slightly, the hand that had been resting on Toushiro's shoulder sliding painfully slowly down the younger teen's side before coming to rest on the bony hip there. Hitsugaya had to literally bite his lower lip to keep from gasping pathetically as the foreign touch rose goose-bumps in its wake even through the thin fabric of the shirt._

"_Think I rightfully earned mah homemade M&Ms, hm?" Gin murmured softly and the smile dripped off Toushiro's face completely, the realization of what the lingering fingers on his body were planning to do hitting him hard. Swallowing thickly to grasp back at least _some_ control over his body, the boy nodded weakly, eyes still riveting sharply in Ichimaru's as he watched the man put his other palm on the wall just beside his head. The hand on Hitsugaya's hip moved downwards, slipping slowly in the smaller male's back-pocket and resting there just a bit longer than necessary before pulling out along with the packet of candy._

"_Have them, I've had them open for a week now." Toushiro tried to joke, but his lips were barely moving, barely producing any sound at all and in spite of all his efforts, the awkward tease just didn't feel right. Before he could tell what was happening, Gin's mouth was beside his ear, hot breath dancing along the sensitive skin as a long, spindly arm found its away around Hitsugaya's waist._

"_Ya could be so much more than this. 'f ya jus' try, if-"_

"_I can't." Toushiro cut him off sharply, eyes squeezing shut as he threw off the suggestions before they could infect them to the point of unfixable. Before they could give him any hopes that he knew he shouldn't be striving for… "I can't. I have to take care of my mother, there's no where to go for me other than here."_

"_No otha' relatives?"_

_Toushiro hesitated for a moment before shaking his head glumly._

"_No one I can count on."_

_He could almost _physically_ feel the disappointment oozing off Ichimaru's body in huge, powerful tides as the man slowly pulled away from him. Before he could think about what he was doing, Toushiro had grabbed the taller one's wrist, eyes darting nervously back a forth for a moment before he blurted breathlessly._

"_Come with me tonight? We're going to Grimm's club. Free partying, it could be fun."_

_A glum, reluctant look fell upon Gin's face at the offer, the refusal already pressing against his lips but Toushiro was faster, more desperate:_

"_If you come, I promise not to do drug tonight. No getting high. No smoking. Whatever you want."_

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_**A/N: Be nice, decent reviewers. :)**  
_


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: This chapter just didn't want to be written. I won't be surprised if you're not too fond of it... But some things just had to be written, k? ^^ Ah, did anyone notice my new profile picture? *is proud* No, that's not me, but I still love it, yay!**_

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It had been a good day. Such a good, peaceful, eventless day, up. Until. _Now_. When Hitsugaya had headed home that afternoon after the heated make-out session in the locker room, his uncle, tidying, and maybe just a liiiltle bit of Ichigo were the only things on his mind. He had walked the distance between the school and his abode, blissfully zoning out as his earphones blasted music directly in his brain, making the world beyond his thick sound bubble seem insignificant and surreal. This was why, upon swerving round the corner to stand just before his apartment building, the genius froze, surprise turning his muscles to rubber as he saw the person who was sitting on the front steps and most probably waiting for him.

"What are you doing here?" Toushiro asked, tugging the earplugs out as a deep scowl automatically wrinkled his forehead. Before him Ichimaru slowly stood up, arching an amused brow as he waited for the smaller male to approach.

"Wanted ta have a few words. I didn' kno' ya'd take so long ta get home from school. Busy?"

"Extra running." Hitsugaya replied dryly and the other one chuckled, stuffing both hands into his pockets as he eyed his ex-boyfriend up and down.

"Ya do look flustered." Gin admitted, reaching to touch Toushiro's cheek – an audacity that had the white-haired genius smack the offending limb away with excessive belligerence. "Had fun?"

"Tons. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" Not really waiting for an answer, Hitsugaya averted his gaze from the taller student's face and made a move to walk pass him – an effort that quickly proved to be futile as Ichimaru's hand landed on the boy's arm, firmly hindering the action. The hold wasn't painful, not even uncomfortable, rather it suggested a mute sort of a request for the soccer captain not to go, and _that_ more than anything else caused Toushiro to halt. Expecting to an extend what this was going to be about, the genius sighed lowly, lips twisting into an uneven line as he turned to face the fox. "Okay. What is it?"

"Are ya seein' someone?" the tone in which the question was asked was light, almost careless, but there was strain underneath that Hitsugaya recognized immediately, and it made him feel strangely uneasy.

"No." he replied coolly, because, in its essence, the answer was true. He wasn't _technically_ going out with anyone, he and Ichigo were… developing a liaison without a determined term. Yet. There was no need in tying a noose when the verdict hadn't been pronounced and with Gin throwing things unexpectedly was always a bad idea.

"Fine then." Ichimaru agreed silkily and just as the genius opened his mouth to try and politely remove himself from the situation, Gin abruptly yanked the boy in front of himself. Toushiro didn't even have the time to begin to struggle before his arm was released and instead a pair of hands landed on his hips, pulling him closer to the broad chest of the ex-sportsman in a position that was way too familiar, if a little prosaic, for both of them. Something at the back of the captain's mind called for him to try to break free, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to, remaining completely still instead as though caught in a memory limbo, palms instinctively lifting to press against the older one's torso in a last feeble attempt to put some minor space between them. Without so much as a thoughtful 'hm' as a warning, Ichimaru leaned forward and drew his nose across Hitsugaya's cheekbone, tracing the jaw-line and down the neck to the shoulder, nuzzling the warm skin with slow, deliberately prolonged movements that made the shorter one shudder - too shocked to show any other reaction whatsoever. "Whoeva' it is, he still hasn' fucked ya yet, ya dun smell like sex an' ya still behave like ya haven' had any in months... Ya do stink and act as an unsatisfied cat in heat though…" he paused and the smaller male nearly shook as he felt Gin smirk against his collarbone before momentarily pressing his lips against the flushed flesh there - that simple action pulling too many memories to the surface, too many forgotten smiles, too many such soft, fading kisses."…which means little Toushiro's learned ta lie."

Shaking his head a little to clear his mind, the genius made an admirable effort to push the fox away, effectively frustrating himself and entertaining Gin in the process.

"What, you've become an oracle now?" Hitsugaya hissed, making the other one's grin widen just a little.

"Not in the slightest, I was havin' mah theories due to yer overly easy-goin' mood recently, but I wasn' sure till ya jus' undoubtedly confirmed mah suspicions." He cooed sweetly, but the usual saccharine pleasantness in his tone, admired by many and despised by even more, held a sort of icy layer underneath that had the smaller male frowning with the first signs of worry. "Now, who's the lucky boy-toy?"

"_Boy-toy_?" Toushiro repeated, grimacing with disgust. "Do you even realize what sort of rubbish spills from your mouth half of the time?"

"Well, I have ya ta remind me, ne?"

"Fuck you."

"Reverse psychology?"

"I have better things to do than waste my time with you." Toushiro spat and just as Ichimaru clicked his tongue, obviously unimpressed by the aggression that was being so saliently displayed, the smaller male gathered enough of his composure to wrench himself free and take a couple of steps back. "My private life is none of your business."

"O' course it is." The fox objected amiably, arms lifting to fold in front of his chest as he leaned over in the smaller one's direction just a bit. "Who are ya seein'?"

"I told you, I'm not dating anyone." The boy groaned, already beyond exasperated, and when the other one didn't show any reactions other than an incredulous tilt of his head, Hitsugaya exhaled noisily through his teeth and looked away. "Dammit, Ichimaru, I'm so sick of your stupid games…"

"Toushiro," Gin said, the earnestness in his voice causing the genius' jade eyes to snap back to look at the taller student. "I'm not an idiot, I can tell when ya're driftin' away and I ain't likin' it in the slightest. I'm not gonna lie ta ya an' tell ya I'm gonna stay back an' watch tha' happen, but tha's beside the point right now. The least I deserve is ta kno' who's got ya so wrapped up round their lil finger."

"It's nothing, just let it go." Hitsugaya replied firmly, huffing with discontent when he saw Ichimaru's brow twitch in the first signs of annoyance. This wasn't ending any time soon and with the fox standing between him and the entrance to the apartment building, Toushiro was pretty much trapped.

"Who are ya tryin' ta protect?" the taller male asked evenly, grin slowly dripping off his face as he crossed the distance between himself and the genius, watching curiously the way Hitsugaya's lips thinned into a tight line upon the approach. "This guy, yerself, me?"

"Gin," the boy said lowly, warningly, letting his next words squeeze between his teeth rather menacingly. "_Don't_."

"Ya still love me." Ichimaru stated with a confidence that was barely cracking around the edges, fraying over the time rifts like an old piece of parchment. Before him Toushiro closed his eyes slowly, weariness twisting his features in a mix of uneasiness, impatience and just a small bit of reconciliation. "Doesn' matter wha' ya do, o' what ya say, it's true… Ya can't be that blind."

"Of course I love you!" Toushiro snapped, a faint pink of angry pink dusting his cheekbones as he paused to chews on his bottom lip for a moment. He hated this. Hated these conversations, these confrontations, they always sounded the same in their essence, kindda rehearsed. If anything, they just ended up proving to the genius just how well they both knew each other underneath all the problems, manipulations and blown-out-of-proportion jealousy fits. Ichimaru was a possessive, disrespectful and painfully blunt kind of guy, and while this could all be quite charming, quite new and interesting till a certain point, Hitsugaya had learned a long ago that it was also very destructive. For both of them. "I _always _will, but that doesn't mean that I will forever be _in_ love with you. That's changed long time ago, _irreversibly_, you had your chance to fix things, but instead you just made them worse by acting like an arrogant ass. Did you really think I would never look for something different? Did you _honestly_ believe that I would never find someone that won't treat me like an opinion-less trophy?"

Snorting with amusement that wasn't entirely sincere, Gin reached to run his fingers through the short strands at the back of his neck – a gesture which the shorter boy recognized as a very rare expression of restlessness.

"Really, Toushiro? Ya think the Kurosaki guy is that fer ya?" pausing to take in the look of shock that flashed across the captain's face, Ichimaru let out a small growl and glanced at the sky with annoyance. "It _is_ him, then. _Dammit_. How can ya be so stupid?"

"The hell is your problem?" Hitsugaya bristled, wrenching himself free when the taller male tried to grasp his wrist. "You don't know anything and yet you keep trying to mess with my private life, how is that fair?"

"Fuck, neko, do ya really think _anyone_ in this school sees a relationship with ya as anythin' else otha than a popularity ticket and a reason ta brag about?" Ichimaru countered, the conviction that was caked in his words like resilient dirt to a thin fabric making the shorter student freeze with surprise. "If anythin', think bout the fact tha' he's the new guy. What does the new guy try to do? _Fit in_. How do ya think fittin' in work, huh? How bout bangin' the local ice prince, how does tha' sound?"

"That's not true." Toushiro rebuffed, although his voice withered just a little before he started shaking his head with unneeded determination. "Kurosaki's not like that. He's different."

"Sure, they all are, no?" Ichimaru replied nastily. "Deep inside ya already kno' tha' I'm right, ya are jus' - Ya kno' what? Le's make a deal." Taking another step closer and leaning just enough so that their noses were almost touching, he added. "If I dun prove ta ya tha' he's trash within a month, 'm steppin' back. I'll neva bother ya again. But if I do prove it to ya, ya're coming back ta be with me and tha's that. So question is," he reached to drag a lazy, teasing finger across the other one's jaw-line and clicked his tongue. "Do ya trust yer Prince Charmin enough ta take me up on tha' offer?"

Hitsugaya's brows knitted into a deeper, almost savage glare as he hissed right in the taller one's face:

"You're on."

* * *

Heading straight for the bed upon entering his room, Ichigo plopped down with a huff and tucked one arm under his head, cell phone finding its way out of his jeans' pocket to his hand so he could glance at the screen. Ichigo knew that making this call was the right thing to do. He was okay with it, he wanted to do it, accepted that there was no way around it, and, well, guilt wasn't exactly the most wonderful of feelings, but yeah, like most teenagers his age, he didn't like backing down.

_That_, and he still wasn't sure what was going on between him and Toushiro. It had been less than a week since their first real kiss, and yet it felt like much longer, almost as if they had been hiding under a rock for months, and months, _and months_, keeping something that couldn't even be named from their friends and classmates for the sake of… what? Sure, thinking about their situation from its logical side (or when the diminutive captain was straddling him and pressing their bodies together in that awfully mind-benumbing way…) it was all fine. It was alright. Actually, most of the time things seemed more than just _okay_ – Ichigo had the most amazing guy in Karakura High in his arms and whether people knew about it or not was completely irrelative. Now, things went completely different when he thought about cancelling his bet with Renji.

It was supposed to be an easy decision, he_ wasn't supposed to be hesitating_, because when you like somebody, doing something (or in this case continuing to do something) that obviously had the potential of hurting said object of affection, was-… unthinkable. But then, the moment Ichigo scrolled down the list of names to find Abarai's one, his uncertainty kicked in and all the things, all the problems that he usually managed to push away, came rushing into his head and he ended up turning the mobile off with a painfully clenched jaw and a low growl of frustration. _This is so stupid, falling head over heels for someone that might not even feel the same way… _And wasn't it right? Wasn't it understandable to be anxious about things like that? After all… If there was anything that the carrot-top had no doubts about, it was that Hitsugaya was very deeply attached to his ex-boyfriend. It was hard to define _what_ exactly the genius was feeling towards the infamous Ichimaru Gin, what was _causing_ those same feelings to keep existing after all this time and if the boy even realized how unhealthy this all was, but even after punching the guy twice in the face and kicking him out of the team, the diminutive soccer captain still seemed to care enough for the fox to try and cover up any possible relationships of his own as well as avoiding such in general. That being said, Ichigo found it rather natural that he had his moments of hesitation regarding whether or not this was going to work for more than, say, a couple of weeks. Sure, the carrot-top was fine with them being discrete for _now_, but how long was this going to last? Stealing flimsy moments here and there, jumping like sinners every time something cracked at the background, what kind of a '_thing_' did they have going on? _If_ they had one at all? What was the point in tending for the ice prince's emotional comfort if Toushiro was going to get rid of Kurosaki the moment he got bored? What were the chances that the genius wasn't just _using_ to fill up the voids, keeping the whole story covered so that he could have a clear road the moment he decided to run back to his ex? It was questions like these, and many, many others that made Ichigo think back to his first days at the school, recall the conversations he had had about the prodigy… and how beneath the veil of adoration, respect and friendliness, many had their own loathsome story or address for the soccer captain. Pretty, _yes_, desirable, _true_, smart, sporty, popular, _correct_, but also stuck-up. Heartless. Cruel. Reserved, biting, short-tempered…

Ichigo closed his eyes, gritting his teeth at the next nagging words.

_Ichimaru Gin's little bitch. _

But that wasn't true, was it? Toushiro was not like that. More than anyone else Ichigo had ever met, Hitsugaya knew to tell apart right from wrong, pushing the definition of those words to their limits in a way that bordered with insanity. Yes, the boy had peculiar ways to show that he cared, he could be a complete joy-killer and, well, one had to basically tiptoe around his temper sometimes, but if the carrot-top had to think about each such occasion, he had to admit that whatever it was that the genius did, it was always derived from good intentions. Toushiro didn't tolerate gossip, or social status, or even attention in general. He was what he was, and he could not be blamed for it. Now, as far as his other Gin-related problems were concerned, wasn't it up to Ichigo to help the white-haired teen solve them? And wasn't it Kurosaki himself who had offered to try forming something more than a friendship between each other?

_Yes. And I don't fuckin' regret it._

The carrot-top picked the mobile phone up and called Renji.

* * *

The first thing that Toushiro noticed as he opened the door, was the large, colourful package of candy that was abruptly stuffed in his arms and nearly made him reel backwards. It took him a moment to realize then that the large bundle (basket?) of sweets wasn't the only thing that had ambushed him and as he finally managed to pull his head back enough to look at the man currently trying to hug him despite the obstacle, the genius smiled awkwardly.

"Hey, uncle Ukitake…" he mumbled, flinching a little at the loud '_Shiro-kun!_' that followed, the volume of the cry nearly making the room shaky behind the boy's eyes. Oh, God. He had forgotten about this stage. "The, um, the candy-"

Miraculously, the message was passed through and ten seconds later the package was put away and Hitsugaya was crushed into a much tighter embrace instead, as his uncle kept on with the usual tirade: I've missed you so much, you're too thin, have you been doing alright, I brought you presents, have you grown up? You seem like you have grown up. Are you sure you haven't?

"Yes." Toushiro stated, shaking his head with a tight smile once he was finally released. "Yes, I haven't grown up."

"Oh." Ukitake said, a little dejectedly, before brightening up like a bulb and reaching to drag his two suitcases inside. "How's school?"

Toushiro shrugged as he stood behind the man, keeping the door open for easier access and bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, impatience getting the best of him. He really hated doing whatever with the front door open – it made him feel as though he was displaying his personal life to the neihbours, and that… _that_ was something the boy sincerely hated.

"Quite boring, actually. If it wasn't for the soccer practices, I'd have gone crazy by now."

"Somehow I'm not surprised." The man smiled, turning around once he was inside and kicking his shoes off beside the wall. Behind him Toushiro just made a soft questioning sound, pushing the door closed and locking it up before following his uncle into the kitchen. "How are your friends? Rangiku?"

"She's surviving. Barely, when it comes to math, but what am I for?"

Ukitake chuckled and stood before the sink, turning the tap to wash his hands as he threw a meaningful glance in the younger male's direction.

"Did you make up with that boy? Um, Gin, was it?"

Toushiro's smile instantly dropped off and he brought his hands behind his back before letting his body fall backwards against the wall near the sink with a low huff.

"No." he mumbled uneasily. "_That _isn't working anymore."

Ukitake glanced at his nephew with what appeared to be a slight sign of disappointment.

"Such a pity." He said, reaching to wipe his hands in the towel beside the sink. "After all he did for you… Getting you off drugs, bringing you to me, _saving_-"

"Don't." Hitsugaya cut him off a little more sharply than he had intended, his features steeling in a strange distant fashion as he let his eyes fall on the floor before him. "I don't want to talk about it."

_Toushiro was late. _

_It wasn't like it was such a big deal, fifteen minutes weren't exactly that much of a trouble, but Hitsugaya just didn't seem like the kind of guy who would keep people waiting. He was more of the… 20-minutes-early sort of kid, standing there waaay before the hour he had named himself, and looking all around as he searched for whoever to show up from some direction. That, in combination with the fact that they were supposed to meet right in front of the bookstore – which, as far as the fox was aware, was the same building where the younger male lived – gave Gin an uneasy, apprehensive sort of feeling in the pit of the stomach. Such delay obviously failed to be blamed on the traffic, and unless something really urgent had happened, he just couldn't fathom _why_ the boy would still not be here…_

_Pulling his hand out of his pocket, Ichimaru glanced at his watch, mentally noting to himself that it was just a minute later than the previous time he had looked. Damn, he hated waiting. He hated waiting more than he could possibly say, and had it been any other case, had it been _a girl_ he had been about to meet, he would've already left long ago…_

_Which just brought him back to the question of _why _he was even tolerating this brat? _

_The soft sound of steps reached his hearing and the man looked up just in time to see Toushiro walk out from behind the building with a cap very similar to the one he had worn the first time they had met. He was clad in a pair of torn jeans and a dark T-shirt, his attire nothing particularly interesting or attention-catching, but he was keeping his head a little lower than usually, his gait kind of stiff as he walked up to the man. His skin in the obscure, matted glow that came from random directions, seemed strangely white, almost sickly so, and for a moment Gin wondered if it was the trick of the light, or if the ghostly pallor was in fact real._

"_Ya're late." Ichimaru noticed flatly and the boy tensed even further._

"_Y-yeah, sorry…" his voice was a little shaky as he stared down at his feet, his left hand rubbing his right elbow nervously as he refused to look up. "Ugh, look, I know I said- I know I said that I wanted to go, eh- with you, but-"_

"_Ya dun want me ta go anymo'?" Ichimaru asked sharply but before he had had the time to properly get angry, Hitsugaya was shaking his head frantically, his palms lifting to cover his face as he tried to calm down his suddenly unusually irregular, surprisingly loud breathing. _

"I_ don't want to go." He finally managed, his voice wilting around the edges and the taller teen frowned, taking a couple of steps towards the boy. As soon as he was standing in front of the shorter figure, however, Toushiro spun around, facing away from him, and made a move to walk away, only to stop dead in his tracks when the taller male's hand grasped his arm. "Gin, _please_…"_

"_Wha's goin' on with ya?" Ichimaru inquired softly, brows pulling together as he gently turned the smaller figure around, surprised that even after dropping his thin spindly arms and uncovering his face, the boy was still refusing to look at him. The already dark sky and the lack of proper street illumination in combination with the cap gave the taller male almost no chance to see his friend's expression and he sighed, trying again: "Toushiro? Kid, ya okay?"_

_The younger student visibly shook in the fox's hold, instantly making an attempt to twist himself free from the other one's grip – a venture that just ended up making him release a frustrated sort of a whimper before he went limp again. Before him, Gin waited patiently for a few more minutes, giving the smaller one the chance to meet his gaze without any outer interference, but, apparently, Hitsugaya had no such intentions. Instead, the boy remained stubbornly still, gaze locked on the ground and fingers twitching restlessly, the whole scene quite ridiculous if one looked at it from the side. Sighing with defeat, Ichimaru reached forward and grasped Toushiro's chin firmly, tilting it upwards so he could finally look at the pair of jade orbs that he had grown so used to over the time._

"_You weren't supposed to see this…" Hitsugaya whispered, letting his eyes slide shut as he spotted the look of shock that didn't fail to emerge on Gin's face._

"_Who did this ta ya?" the fox inquired, his voice far more stern and hard than he had expected as he took in the large bruise that was surrounding the outer side of Toushiro's left eye and spread downwards to a slightly swollen cheekbone. He wasn't sure if there were any more serious injuries, but when he looked closely, he could spot a set of fresh red-lines underneath the jaw-line that appeared to have been left by fingernails, and a series of minor cuts along the boy's hands that might've or might have not been left by dealing with pieces of broken glass._

"_My mom." The boy replied with a strangled, thick sort of voice, not even attempting to cover the truth up as he lowered his chin back just a bit when Ichimaru let go of it. "I already told you. She has an alcohol problem."_

"_An' she hits ya?"_

"_No!" Hitsugaya rebuffed, shaking his head when he caught the look of disgust that flashed across the taller one's face. "No, just-… Just sometimes. When s-she remembers…"_

"_Remembers what?"_

_Toushiro's head lowered even more and in the fox's hold, his small hand clenched into a weak fist._

"_That dad left her because of me." He managed, somewhere between a choked cry and a sob. Before him, Gin let his fingers loosen their grasp around the other one's arm and sighed, his features softening at the sight before him. "I don't… I don't feel like going to any club tonight. I think I'm just gonna take a walk or something…"_

"_Come ova' ta mah place." Ichimaru suggested suddenly, earning himself a shocked look from the wounded boy's side. "I live in the guest house behind mah grandparents' one. No one's gonna bother us, no one's even gonna kno' ya're there."_

"_I-I don't know…" Toushiro bit his bottom lip, obviously unsure of how sincere the invitation was as he let his eyes roam the fox's face. "You don't have to do anything. I'll be fine, I'll ju-"_

"_No." the taller student interrupted firmly, reaching to grasp the boy's other's arm before pulling Hitsugaya closer. "I'm serious. I want ya ta come."_

_There was a short pause during which the smaller male just stared up, unsure if he should give his consent to the proposal… Then finally, he let a timid sort of smile form on his lips and nodded his head._

"_Okay. But let's get out of here soon, before Grimm's come to pick us. He won't be very happy about the change of plans."_

* * *

_**A/N: Review!**  
_


	16. Chapter 16

**_A/N: The muse that is responsible for this story is recently trying to leave me. This was hard for me to write, harder than I had imagined, so be nice._**

**For all GinHitsu lovers out there, I'm strongly recommending you Doublebend's story Telling Thoughts. _Truly under-appreciated masterpiece._**

* * *

It was long past midnight, probably nearing 2am, and yet Ichigo was still wide awake in his room, laying on top of the bed-covers with one arm pillowing his head and the other resting limply across his stomach with its long tan adjunctions of fingers occupied in the absent twirling of his mobile phone. The lamp was blazing brightly just above his head like a little artificial sun in a way that would've otherwise made the carrot-top feel particularly irritated and in need for some milder source of illumination at this hour, but right now the teen couldn't care less. He was waiting. And _damn_, was the waiting killing him!

It had been about twenty minutes since the device had last beeped with the announcement that a new message had arrived, and yet it felt like long, racking hours, days, _weeks_. Something had been eating the carrot-top up all day long and now that he had finally found out what it was, it had only made him feel worse.

The moment he had laid his eyes on Toushiro that morning, he had known something wasn't right. It showed in Hitsugaya's gait, his posture, the barely noticeable tension in his shoulders, the outlines of his frame, the depth of the crease between his brows that managed to surface ever so often and caused this odd, fidgety consecution of gestures that Ichigo had never seen the smaller male display before. There was something bothering Toushiro, eating the slender captain from the inside, and as hard as the genius was trying to hide it by acting like his usual self, the issue was seeping through the rifts in his badly placed mask like sand dust between a man's fingers. By the end of the last period, the downward turn of the white-haired teen's mouth had become almost a permanent feature on his dainty face, carved in the soft flesh like a vivid line in a stone sculpture. And yet, no matter how many times the carrot-top had tried to sneak a moment from the boy's time and ask about it, he had only ended up being brushed off with a half-smile, half-shrug and a fully manifested scowl. The treatment that he had received, as meager as it had been, had verged with some sort of reluctant coldness that the taller male had spectacularly failed to comprehend, and so he had gone home in a sour, biting mood, not at all sure what to do.

Until Hitsugaya had texted him.

_**I can't sleep.**_

For the longest moment Ichigo had considered not replying. It had been very late already, his whole family long asleep, and it wouldn't have been very suspicious to just pretend he was snoring peacefully in his bed, too. But whether because he had been secretly wishing for this attempt for communication all day long, or because he could read a lot more than a simple statement in that short string of words, he found himself typing back the most logical answer he could possibly come up with at the moment.

_**Me, too. Everything alright?**_

_**No. Can I come over?**_

Ichigo had pondered over the request for about a minute, one brow raised with the best surprise he could muster at such hour, then just as he was about to reply, the next message beeped and he felt himself smile just a little.

_**Sorry. Forget I said anything.**_

Shaking his head a little at the uncertainty that peeped through the message, Ichigo hurried to reply, not really finding it in himself to care how crazy this all sounded.

_**Just don't ring the bell, call me on the phone when you're here and I'll come open the door for you. My family's sleeping. Or I can come over to your place if you want to? How does that sound?**_

_**No. I'll be with you in 30.**_

And that was that.

Ichigo wasn't sure what to expect – or whether to expect anything at all – but the least he could think was that whatever it was, it hadn't been him who had caused it. At least, not directly, he hoped, as being the reason for the smaller one's troubles bothered the carrot-top far more than he was willing to admit. Sure, they weren't officially _anything_ yet, they didn't hang out in public, talk about anything other than trite school and soccer team topics, didn't stand closer than the acceptable distance between two moderately close classmates, and all in all, spent much less time together than what the carrot-top would've preferred, but that didn't change the fact that whatever it was that they had brewing felt frighteningly right. Frighteningly _good_. Yes, Toushiro was always more or less recoiling like a burnt child whenever things got too emotional, or too close to the hinting of a more serious deal between them, albeit was that a reason to worry at this point? With the bet called off and Renji graciously accepting that the little incident should stay between them, Ichigo had to reason to hurry. He had all the time in the world to devote to being patient with the white-haired genius and that was exactly what he was planning to do. Hitsugaya's coming here right now was just another proof that things were going as smoothly as they could. Maybe the prompt wasn't one of the best types, but the carrot-top couldn't help this tiny tingle in his belly, like a minute knot of warm honey that melted sweetly and filed his insides every time he thought that for the first time Toushiro had independently and voluntarily initiated a contact with the taller male in search for some kind of a comfort.

It felt like hours before his cell finally rang and the sound, so sharp and clear in the previously silent room, made him jump and pretty much stumble off the bed. Cancelling the call, Ichigo threw the mobile on the mattress and quietly snuck out of the room and downstairs, opening the front door and pulling the lonely figure standing on the threshold inside without further ado. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights in the corridor, so he barely managed to catch a flash of the familiar pair of jade pools, lustering icily in the brief flash of street light, before the most vivid reminder of the Toushiro's presence became the feeling of cold skin, holding loosely onto the taller one's hand. The white-haired boy said nothing, remaining dutifully silent for the sake of preserving the peacefulness of the house, but unlike any other form of quietness, this one expressed the most eloquent gratitude the host could've think of. It was engraved in the very essence of the gentle grasp the boy had on the carrot-top's fingers, the intensity of the invisible gaze that bore in the back of Ichigo's head as he locked up the door, and it had been there, smoldering gently, in the depths of the familiar teal orbs that the carrot-top had had so little time to explore properly.

Turning around, the taller male pulled the soccer captain closer to his side and gingerly started to lead him upstairs, sneaking quietly in the dark like a thief that was trying to cross over a dangerous territory with a precious new item in his greedy hands. Once again, the lights remained turned off, leaving him to rely on his own memory and sense of direction as he showed Toushiro the way, and although he doubted the illumination of a lamp or two would cause such a big issue for his slumbering family, he found a nearly childish sort of excitement in being stealthy and surreptitious.

They reached Ichigo's room within a minute or two, and when they finally did and the bright artificial light engulfed them in its brilliant embrace, the carrot-top felt something flip inside of him (whether from worry or delight) as he finally stood face to face with the white-haired genius. Gaze - intense, yet somewhat timid - met his own one and the slender little fingers slid away from his hand with reluctance that seemed engraved in everything the boy was currently displaying.

"That was really stupid of me, to come here." Toushiro uttered softly, self-accusingly even, and the other male couldn't help the small crooked smile that twisted his lips at the sight of those startlingly bright, startlingly _troubled_ jade eyes, now riveted on his with such an alien sort of restlessness. "I don't know, I-… Are you mad at me? Please, just tell me if you are, I've got-"

Shaking his head at the uneasy undertone that peered through the nearly imperceptible sound of the boy's voice, Ichigo lifted his arms just a little and whispered warmly:

"Come here."

For a second or two, Hitsugaya seemed to be hesitating, glancing up at the taller student as though to make sure that he had the needed permission to move, and then finally, _finally_, he allowed himself to sink into the carrot-top's embrace, falling into it with eagerness that surprised both of them. Spindly, sinewy arms wrapped themselves with unexpected tightness around Ichigo's waist and the slightly unsure pale face disappeared in the man's shirt, the salient trust engraved in the gesture having Kurosaki's insides warm up with a sort of a sour sweetness.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Toushiro shook his head against the solidness of the other one's shirt and the carrot-top exhaled slowly through his nose, his right hand sliding to the back of the boy's head to play with the white strands there while the other one rubbed soothing circles in the genius' back.

"Why not?"

"I just don't." came the muffled reply and the carrot-top bit the side of his lower lip, brows furrowing in a tiny scowl at the non-existent reason. "Can we just… sit down and, I don't know-… I don't know."

Ichigo's smile was just a tad bit wistful.

* * *

An hour later found them both lying on the floor in the middle of the now dark room, staring at the black, bottomless ceiling and talking softly about nothing in particular. Nothing that mattered. Nothing that could burst the calm little bubbled that had erected around themselves like children often did when they hid away in some dark, narrow space. Ichigo could feel the other boy's tension – an almost palpable iron grip around the smaller male's throat - slip away little by little… but nonetheless, it was still there, like a string of little knots of stress that seemed to pulsate through the genius' whole body and keep him functioning at an hour that was meant to be spent resting, rather than traveling across Karakura to spend a few hours rolling around the parquet. The carrot-top didn't really mind staying up late – he could catch up on his sleep during chemistry the next day, so what the hell – but the deep, gnawing feeling of failure that brewed within the confines of his ribcage whenever Toushiro's frown tightened just a bit, gaze distancing for a mere second even as they spoke… _that_ was something that he had a really hard time swallowing.

"Hey," Ichigo murmured after a short moment of silence, features softening a little as he summoned a bit of taunting to accompany his next words. "I just realized you haven't given me a kiss yet."

The carrot-top felt Hitsugaya shake with a soundless chuckle at that remark and mentally congratulated himself on a job well done, watching carefully as the boy adjusted himself so that he was securely propped on his elbow just a few inches away from the taller student.

"Tell me something you never told anyone and I'll think about it." He whispered teasingly, a tiny smirk forming on his face along with each clearly enunciated sound. For a moment there was nothing, no movement, no speaking, _nothing_… then slowly, almost painfully so, the playful expression dripped off the taller one's face and he sighed, eyelids dropping halfway to cover his eyes.

"Okay."

Ichigo could tell the boy immediately felt the change in the atmosphere and almost as soon as the carrot-top had uttered his agreement, Toushiro was shaking his head, something that vaguely resembled regret twisting his face.

"You don't have to do anything if you don't want to." The soccer captain said earnestly, but Ichigo just slid his free arm around the other student's slim waist, resting it there as though to make sure the smaller male wasn't going to go anywhere.

"I want to. It's no big deal, and I've got to take it out of my system at some point…" letting his dark eyes travel up and down the barely illuminated form beside him, Ichigo rested his gaze on a spot just below Hitsugaya's chin and huffed. "I did a really stupid thing in my old school. A stupid thing that… pretty much forced me to leave and come here."

"Oh." He could feel Toushiro's slightly widened eyes blink a couple of times at that revelation and almost smiled at the obvious bewilderment that the smaller male's whole body language seemed to emit. "What kind of a stupid thing?"

"The kind that-" faltering a little as a miniature smile of amusement formed on his lips, Ichigo looked up to meet the boy's gaze and ran his thumb over the skin just above the line of Hitsugaya's jeans. "-had the smoothest, softest ivory skin. And the silkiest dark hair. And the-" he paused, snickering a little at the displeased scowl that had instantly pulled at both the captain's brows and mouth, and added a bit more quietly. "-the most obnoxious character I had ever seen."

"Appeasing." Toushiro noticed dryly and the taller male chuckled, leaning forward to plan a quick kiss on the boy's forehead.

"He was one of the popular kids and, naturally, an unreachable aim. I was infatuated with him for over three years, watching him from a distance, until one Friday night I miraculously found myself on a party that he also attended."

"So you two fucked." Hitsugaya cut in, a bit more sharply than probably intended, but Ichigo wasn't bothered by the awaited hostility in the smaller one's voice, choosing instead to just nod at the supposition and lower his gaze.

"We fucked. Or-… I don't know. I guess I wasn't thinking about it like _that_ back then. I guess-" he pursed his lips for a moment, disappointment clear in the gesture as his eyes dulled a little with the weight of the memory. "I guess I was hoping it was a bit _more_ than that. And then the next morning he woke up, jumped out of the bed with this disgusted, frustrated look on his face, and told me not to even dare think about telling anyone about this. He insisted that he had been too drunk the previous night, too unaware of what (or _who_) he was doing, and that he wasn't gay… Then there was a string of other rather colourful profanities that included my name, but I don't quite remember."

"And sooo you left the school?"

"No. God, of course not." Ichigo objected indignantly, one brow rising incredulously at that suggestion. "His uncle was the principle of the school. A few string here, a few string there, and two days later I was called in the guy's office and very mildly 'prompted' to consider moving to another school. It was obvious that if I didn't do it, they'd find a reason to kick me out, and, well, I didn't really want a black splotch in my record just because I fucked the wrong closet case."

There was a long moment of silence afterwards. Ichigo couldn't exactly tell what it was that he was seeing in the shorter one's eyes, what kind of emotion swam underneath the surface of glassy jade like a layer of thick liquid silk, but whatever it was, it seemed to set something right inside of him. A link that he hadn't even realized had been wrong, askew, _broken_. So when Toushiro leaned forward very, very slowly and pressed his lips against the carrot-top's ones with decisive firmness, Kurosaki couldn't really find it in himself to be surprised.

"Let me fix that bad first time memory for you." The captain whispered against Ichigo's lips before reattaching their mouths back together.

_Toushiro watched the beat-up mobile phone as it vibrated insistently in front of him, occasionally shifting a little against the mattress that the boy was currently sitting on, cross-legged and very, very uncertain of what to do. It was probably the fifth or the sixth time that the device was ringing, screen flashing almost aggressively as though to force its accusation a bit harder on him, and yet the only remorse the white-haired teen managed to force himself to feel was that he wasn't decisive enough to face this the normal, humanly accepted way._

_Sliding his hands across his jeans to rest them on his kneecaps, the boy tried in vain to summon the willpower to pick up and just tell Grimmjow to _stop it_. Tell him, once and for all, that after having the call cancelled on him again, and again, and _again,_ it was obvious that he _wasn't _coming to his club tonight and no talking would change his mind. And after all, who was Grimmjow to try to have such persistent, and honestly, very unwelcomed control over the boy's life. Sure, it was nice to smoke a cigarette or two at the end of the next crappy day, lapse into the soothing oblivion that good strong pot and a few shots of alcohol could provide, but that didn't automatically make the dealer some sort of a family member. _God_, not even fuckin close… and that was Hitsugaya talking, with his amazing experience in homey atmospheres and so on, and so forth…_

"_Tha's a pretty obstinate guy, huh?"_

_Toushiro's head snapped in the direction of the voice and he watched a bit uncertainly as Ichimaru closed the front door of guest house that he had ensconced the younger male in a few minutes ago, and walked over to the bed with something that turned out to be a large ice pack in his hand._

"_Yeah, he can be pretty irritating at times…" Hitsugaya murmured, reaching gratefully for the said ice pack and ending up with a confusedly arched brow when his hand was pushed gently to the side and the older teen sat down in front of him on the slightly creaky mattress. An expression of slight apprehension twisted the boy's features at the action and he unconsciously pressed his lips together, not entirely sure what to expect, but the uncertainty melted away instantly when Gin lifted his hand to press the alleviating coolness against Toushiro's bruised cheekbone himself. "Thanks."_

"_Does this happen often?" Ichimaru asked evenly, slit eyes grazing over the darkened flesh and the boy shrugged, closing his eyes and letting the benumbing sensation splash across his aches like an almost undeserved sort of bliss._

"_Every once in awhile."_

"_Why dun ya tell somebody? I dun kno'… the police?"_

_Toushiro sneered at that suggestion, a bitter sort of smile pulling at his mouth as he resisted from shaking his head in order to keep the ice-pack still pressed against his face._

"_And what am I to do? Live in orphanage till my life is even more ruined? At least now I've got a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in."_

"_This is an astoundingly gloomy way fo' a boy yer age ta reason." Ichimaru pointed out only half teasingly, his grin faltering a bit around the edges when he caught a sight of the mobile phone, the small device starting off on another vibrating spree once again. "Dun get it. Is he some sorta boyfriend o' yers?"_

_The low choking sound that came from Toushiro's direction was an eloquent answer enough to such seemingly offensive enquiry and Gin nearly chuckled at the reaction. Adjusting the cooling bundle a bit more comfortably against the white-haired teen's face, he watched the boy's features twist with distaste and obvious annoyance._

"_God, no! I don't like him that way." Hitsugaya said firmly, pausing for a moment, only to open his eyes to peer at the taller male with a questioning scowl. "Why do you care?"_

"_Well, ya might not think bout him in such manner, but he could have some other ideas." Ichimaru's grin tightened at his own statement, losing a particle of its taunting nature as he removed the ice pack from the boy's cheekbone just enough to survey the damage, note that it still looked awful, and press the thing back against the now nearly sense-devoid skin. "I wouldn' have been so persistent if I didn' have somethin' on mah mind bout the other person."_

"_He__'__s __older.__" __Toushiro __objected __flatly __and__ the __fox __let __out __a__ small __huff, __shaking __his __head __a__ bit __in __a __way __that __made __the __boy __jerk__ away __and __glare __at __the __other__ male, __grasping __the__ invading __wrist __for __emphasize.__ "__What?_What?_"_

"_Doesn' matter. Lemme take care of this." Ichimaru said with forced carelessness, trying in vain to reach again for Hitsugaya's marred flesh, only to have the younger teen obstinately dodge the hand and scoot backwards to the opposite end of the bed._

"_You can't do that and then not tell me what it was about!" the boy exclaimed indignantly, currently absolutely uncaring for his bruises as he gazed tensely at the taller male, both arms lifting to wrap around his stomach as though that could somehow protect him lest he didn't enjoy the potential answer. When Gin merely let out a frustrated sigh and reached to rub the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his free hand, Toushiro swallowed the lump in his throat and added. "I can handle it if it's bad."_

"_It ain't bad, jus'-"_

"_Just what?"_

"_Strange."_

"_If it's not bad, you can tell me."_

"_Toushiro, ya dun get it-…"_

"_Then it's bad."_

"_It __ain__'__t-__… __fuck!__" __pausing __to __seemingly __gather __his__ thoughts __together, __Ichimaru__ shook __his __head, __unconsciously __squeezing__ his __hand__ around __the __ice __pack __a __bit __harder __than__ necessary. __Toushiro__'__s __eyes __followed __the__ movement__ and __he __felt __his __stomach__ flip __just __a __bit, __the__ expectation __and __the __still childish__, __itchy __feeling __of __curiosity __suddenly __making __him __feel __both __warm __and __icy __cold on __the__ inside. __For __the __longest __moment __the __other __teen __didn__'__t __speak, __gaze __first__ drilling __with __half-concealed __irritation __at __the __floor, __then __with __something __that __vaguely __resembled __wonder __at __his __hands__ before __finally __lifting __to__ meet __the __smaller __one__'__s __anxious __teal __orbs.__ "_I'm_ older __an__' __I__ wanna __do __things __ta __ya __tha__' I'__m __not __very __proud __of.__"_

_Hitsugaya__'__s __eyes __widened __at __that__ statement,__ a __shocked, __somewhat __trapped __expression __freezing __his __face __into __almost __stony__ puzzlement __as __he __desperately __tried __to __process __the __newly __arrived __information. __Dropping __his__ hands __back__ on __the __mattress __on __either__ of __his __sides, __the __boy __leaned __forward __ever __so __slightly, __disbelief __and __a __tad __bit __of __bashfulness__ swirling __in __his __chest __as __he __tried __to __once__ again __sum __up __what __he __had __just __heard. __Before __him __Gin __was __gazing __at __him __with__ an __unreadable, __albeit __incredibly __intense __look __hidden __beneath __the __pale __veil __of __his__ eyelids, __awaiting __some __kind__ of __more __drastic, __more__ specific__ reaction __from__ the__ younger __male. __A _reaction _that __Toushiro __failed __to __produce __for__ another __half__ a __minute __until __the __only __question,__the __only _hinder _that __could __currently __make __its __way__ to __the __surface __managed __to __form__ on __his __lips __in __the __shape __of __a __very __hesitant __whisper:_

"_But I thought you said you didn't like boys."_

_Ichimaru seemed neither amused, nor angry with the statement, moving across the bed slowly till he was close enough to his little guest to reach with one hand and cup Hitsugaya's unharmed cheek._

"_So?" he asked softly before leaning forward and pressing his lips against Toushiro's._

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_**A/N: I'm narcissistic, so I need reviews. Preferably nice ones. **  
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	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N: This story is a very interesting thing: the number of reviews seems to fluctuate from flatteringly high to disappointingly low. No need to say that last time it was the better option - you all made me very happy with the things you said. :3 Thank you all. Special thanks to Ash of Ember for making my day. :3 And for all of you - I hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

**ATTENTION: DUE TO THE RULES OF THE SITE, I HAVE REMOVED A SCENE from this chapter so as to not cause problem with its CONTENT and I have placed said scene in LIVEJOURNAL.  
**

**__****Link to the story IN MY PROFILE PAGE or this:**  


**__********queenofcitrus(then you write a dot and 'livejournal') (then a dot) (then 'com/3243')(then a dot)(then 'html')**

**__****Please, support the petition to allow writers to have stories containing lemons - you will find the petition by googling 'petition to stop the destruction of fanfiction'**

**__****or... www(then dot)change(then dot)(then org)(then this: /petitions/fanfiction-net-stop-the-destruction-of-fanfiction-net)  
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**__****Till then... I'm saving my stories pretty much. :3**

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The kiss felt warm and cotton-like even as it deepened, lacking that incessant, teenage impatience that often took over, draining the precious taste of the moment much faster than what would be considered pleasant. Every motion was well-measured, patient, tender, as though if any more harsh movement was executed, the ethereal strands of balance around them would rip with a tortured shriek and the peace would crumble to thin, silvery dust... Ichigo felt only half-aware of what was going on as his white-haired guest slowly, calmly pulled him up until they were both sitting up, each of Toushiro's knees now on either of the man's sides. There was something very endearing in the way they were kissing now, curled on the floor in the middle of the room, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a conversation that hadn't been planned at all… Hitsugaya's arms felt cool and comforting around the carrot-top's neck, like a promise left unspoken but twice as significant as any other flimsy string of words, and his narrow waist, arched ever so slightly, seemed more exquisite under Kurosaki's fingers than any sculptural masterpiece, any delicate piece of art.

"Your family?" Toushiro whispered and the carrot-top shook his head just a bit, reacting in a sort of a dizzy state that had the genius smiling a little against the taller one's lips.

"A truck passing through the house wouldn't wake them."

"Well, we won't be as loud as a truck." The white-haired teen muttered in this velvety, seductive kind of voice, body literally molding against Ichigo's as he wrapped his pale arms tightly, tightly around the tanned neck before him and delivered a kitty-like lick on the older bloke's lower lip. "Will we?"

It felt good, the carrot-top realized, so good, so _different_… He couldn't quite put his finger on it yet, but just having Toushiro like this, clinging tightly to him with all four limbs, and breathing the same air that Ichigo breathed… it was by far the most intimate experience that the orange-haired lad had ever had before. It had nothing to do with the sexual tension, or how low and husky, cultivated Hitsugaya's voice sounded when he spoke… it was the warmth of the moment, the sweet, sweet warmth that could incinerate every other detail about the world that enveloped them, every inconvenience, discomfort, sound, sight… Just like that, the short snowy-haired genius had created a bullet-proof bubble of frothy privacy around them and Kurosaki could do nothing but revel in the sensation…

And then they were kissing again, nice, and slow, and so very erotic, and the surroundings fell to pieces like a shattered sugar wall. Ichigo could feel himself growing harder along with his white-haired partner, the heat of his arousal throbbing dully in the confines of his jeans and straining pitifully for a _relief_, for the smoothness of the other body and the delectable friction that this body could provide. The carrot-top's fingers slid up his partner's thigh, grazing lightly the thick material that restricted him from truly touching his lover, before finally finding the fabric-clad crease of a tight ass and rubbing the place suggestively. Hitsugaya moaned softly at the touch, not once allowing himself to break the consecution of luscious little kisses, but the more delicious the liplocks grew, the stronger the ache for _something__ more_ became, pulsing between them persistently till Toushiro finally started moving, grinding their lengths together in a prolonged, almost lazy rhythm that enflamed every nerve in the carrot-top's system. There was something incredibly graceful in the way the boy writhed on top of Ichigo, those seemingly simple series of ministrations appearing so controlled, so worryingly well-trained, that between the red-hot pleasure and the craving for friction, Kurosaki couldn't help it but think… How many times had the white-haired teen done the very same thing for Ichimaru?_ Dozens? __Hundreds__…__?_ Those kinds of questions, the bane of every lover's existence (if a little modified by the knowledge of _who_ had been the one taking this very same body not so long ago), were something that Ichigo was slowly beginning to give up on fighting against. He'd always wonder, he realized… _Always_. And not so much because he didn't trust Toushiro's honesty or loyalty… but because it was so hard to believe that he truly _could_ have the infamous ice prince all for himself.

"It's been so long…" Hitsugaya uttered, his delicate pants caressing the taller one's ear like butterfly wings as he kept rubbing himself against his partner, slowly, sensually, expectantly even. "-So long since I've felt this close to anyone…" the boy paused, almost afraid of what he had just said, and swallowed thickly, his breath shuddering just a little as he slid his hands to the front of Ichigo's chest and let his eyes find the pair of chocolate ones in the dark. There was a trice of silence and then Toushiro spoke again, a hint of thin, misty vulnerability, flashing underneath his tone. "It's a little scary, you know…"

The carrot-top's arms tightened around the skinny frame in his lap and without thinking he plant a small, prudish kiss on the pair of swollen lips in front of him.

"Don't be afraid." He replied with surprising firmness and then reached to bury his right hand in the mop of white hair at the side of Toushiro's head and tug on it ever so gently to have the soccer captain tilt his head to the side, exposing the milky flesh of his own neck to the carrot-top's eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You promise?" the sound of the boy's voice was barely perceptible even in the silence of the room, but Ichigo caught it nonetheless and it made his chest ache all over from the inside, in a way that he couldn't remember ever experiencing before. Inhaling deeply the overwhelming, absolutely devastatingly pure scent that was Hitsugaya, he nuzzled his nose against the crook of the genius' neck before slowly starting to deliver gentle sucks and kisses all along the white, immaculate skin before him.

"I promise." Another pang of pain, a bit stronger than the first, but Toushiro never noticed the way his partner's face scrunched up in a grimace, choosing instead to melt completely against Ichigo's tanned body. Hooking a finger under the captain's collar, the carrot-top gave the material a gentle pull, baring a bit more of the pale shoulder for his own pleasure and treating the oval spot with the same hunger and devotion as the rest of the boy's neck, his ministrations faltering only in the moments when the rolling of Hitsugaya's hips against his own broke his regular breathing and made him grunt. The air around them seemed to heat up with the raw, bottled up desire that oozed from their bodies, and even with the two of them both still fully clothed, there was enough tension accumulating in the open space between them to have the room spin a little out of focus. Growling softly at the realization that he could be doing so much more if permitted to shed some of Toushiro's layers, Ichigo reached between himself and his partner and slipped his free hand under the genius' shirt, massaging the toned stomach there in an almost pleading manner. "Can I take this off?"

As though only now realizing he was dressed at all, Toushiro straightened himself up, a little bit of a glassy gaze directing at his lover's questioning expression before trailing down to his own shirt-clad torso. Before him, Ichigo was waiting a little impatiently for any sort of voiced or implied permission, digits still massaging the smooth flesh underneath the offending fabric, but much to his surprise, instead of saying anything, Hitsugaya let out a low huff and scrambled to get off his partner's lap.

"I want to do something first." The boy murmured, more to himself than to the taller male, and crawled back carefully until he was kneeling between the taller male's legs, his face hovering meaningfully over the bulge in the older teen's pants. Without any signs of hesitation, Toushiro reached for the zipper and slowly, almost curiously so, pulled it down right in front of Ichigo's widened eyes. (...)

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**_Missing scene you can find in my LJ account. Links to that are in my Author Notes and my profile page._**

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(...)

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Hitsugaya managed, a bit more composedly now, his shoulders slumping tiredly as he leaned against his partner, not seeming in any hurry to pull away. "But my ass will be so sore after this... You need to get lube next time." He paused, a low content sigh escaping his lips as he rubbed his brow against the taller male's collarbone like a kitty, asking for a treat. "Can we move on the bed now? I'm so sleepy."

Ichigo just chuckled at the request.

The real question was: would they be able to move _out_ of the bed in the morning?

_"Tha' was pretty good fo' a first time, chibi…" Ichimaru grunted breathlessly when Toushiro finally pulled away from his cock, giving the older man a look of genuine apprehension. "Ya're gonna be some cock-sucker one day."_

_Hitsugaya's eyes immediately narrowed at that statement and he snorted, not bothering to hide the distaste on his face as he was pulled up to the taller male's level and then swiftly flipped on his back on the soft, bouncy mattress. He wanted to protest against the treatment – almost as much as he craved to argue with the obscene accusation that his lover had voiced with such irritatingly casual tone just a moment ago, but the complaints died away before even being born. A slightly rough thumb swiped under the boy's eye – just over the now fading bruise that had been bestowed on him a little more than a week ago – and then down to find the smaller teen's pout-twisted lower lip. The touch was gentle, evanescent and very, very quiet, but Toushiro knew what was hidden beneath the gesture: a handful of frustration, a little bit of reproach, and maybe, just maybe, the apprehension that the wicked painting was going to be restored to its previous glory much too soon. The boy hated talking about it – about his mom, his crumbling excuse of a family, about the future that Gin was constantly trying to coerce him to think about – it was what it was. No discussing would change anything, and no arguing was going to make the troubles in Hitsugaya's life go away… Ichimaru was going to go home at the end of the summer. He'd leave. And what the two of them had, as little as it was, was going to fade away in the distance, probably blurred by the taste of weed and cigarettes, dulled by the stinging taste of alcohol that seemed to go so well with the flavor and effects of the aforementioned fixes._

_…And it wasn't like the older student's departure was so far away in time, either. A month and a half? Two months tops, and that was if Gin wanted to stay till the very end of the vacation. After the period was over, Toushiro doubted that whatever fling they had, it was going to turn into something that Ichimaru would want to go back to. He had his own normal life somewhere far away, in Karakura, and Hitsugaya had his own right here, right now. Their paths had somehow met during their frivolous, twisted life routes, and there was nothing bad about that – they just needed to get the best out of it without wasting time. That's why they were going fast, faster than the pace that either of them was entirely comfortable to keep up with… It was the price to pay, Toushiro admonished his conscience, the fuckin price to pay when you knew the clock was ticking right above your head…_

_"Gin…" the boy breathed, swallowing a sort of dryness in his throat that he hadn't been expecting to have to deal with at this point. He felt his lover reply with a low 'hmm?' against his pale stomach, the older teen's lips teasing the sensitive flesh with soft nips and sucks as the fox traveled lower and lower. "Gin, do you-" He bit his lower lip, fighting a fine layer of coldness that was trying to adhere itself to his pale flesh. Dammit, Toushiro! Get a hold of yourself! "-Do you want to do it?"_

_The gentle treatment, delivered so diligently just a moment ago, ceased instantly, and Ichimaru looked up to meet the pair of liquid teal orbs above him. The hold around Hitsugaya's hips tightened for a moment, and then the pressure seemed to fade, escaping the fox's body along with a quiet little exhale._

_"Doesn' matter. Ya dun wana go there jus' yet."_

_"Maybe I do." The boy uttered, trying in vain to keep his voice from sounding so shaky at the end, so precarious. Maybe I do?_

_"No, ya dun." The fox replied simply, resting his chin on his lover's stomach as he kept gazing up at the snowy-haired teen. "It feels a lil rushed as it is an' I dun think 's a good idea ta go any faster than this. It feels plenty o' good right now anyways."_

_"But I thought-"_

_"Ya thought?"_

_Fidgeting a little uneasily, Hitsugaya worried his lower lip with his teeth for a moment before glancing anxiously at the white ceiling above his head._

_"You're older."_

_"So?"_

_"So don't you… Don't you need-"_

_"No."_

_"Why?" Toushiro whispered, a large, boulder-like lump forming in his throat as he blinked several times, honestly confused now. Honestly frightened, too. "Is it-… Is it because I'm not a girl?"_

_The question was followed by a very obvious and very loud irritated sigh, Ichimaru's body swiftly lifting as he propped himself on his elbows with a slightly frustrated scowl._

_"I thought we talked bout this."_

_Toushiro swallowed again, his eyes itching to close as shame crawled up his spine, mixing with his worries and clutching at his ribs with strength that the white-haired teen had no idea how to fight off. He felt stuck. He felt helpless, and unsure, and so very small as the now painfully familiar slit eyes lifted to hover over him with a much more earnest expression than Hitsugaya had ever seen before._

_"Doesn' bother me. I dun care." The man enunciated slowly, firmly, with a sense of finality and the authority of the older male that Toushiro didn't know how to contradict. "Ya're special. I wanna make our first time something special, too."_

_"But-… We have no time!"_

_"We have all the time in the world." Gin objected, the first signs of his usual grin beginning to show on his face yet again. "Lemme worry bout that. Now lay back an' enjoy yerself. I'm gonna make ya moan all that stupid talk outta yer system."_

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_Thirty minutes later Toushiro was, once more, hitting the 'ignore' button on his phone, biting his lip as he tried to think of a way to get Grimmjow to stop calling him. Placing the mobile beside his thigh, the boy pulled his shirt over his head, glancing down as to see the light-blue fabric cover the hickies that had begun to form on the otherwise immaculate skin of his stomach. He could feel a small shifting behind his back, along with the bouncing of the mattress as Gin rolled over, but paid no attention to the motion, his eyes busy scanning the area of the floor in search for his socks until a second later he caught a glimpse of his lover's pale hand, reaching to snatch his mobile._

_"Hey!" the boy yelped, whipping around to give the taller student a disbelieving glance, half-expecting to have the device returned to him immediately, half awaiting to be pinned to the bed once more if this was in fact some complicated strategy to get him to stay a little long. Instead of satisfying either of those suspicions, Ichimaru just sat up in the bed and pressed a few buttons of the phone, staring with surprising concentration at the cracked screen as he manipulated the ancient gadget with the clumsiness of a person who didn't really own it. A feeling of dread spread up the boy's spine and his eyes widened, body reacting much faster than his mind as he launched forward, trying in vain to get his belonging back – an effort that proved to be thrown in vain as Gin simply brought his forearm up, keeping his little lover at a distance as he put the mobile to his ear._

_"Listen ta me, ya moron," the silver-haired bloke spat into the speaker, dodging a flailing arm with expertise. "Get the fuckin' hint and stop callin', Toushiro ain't available, he doesn' want ta speak ta ya. I'm lookin' afta 'im now, so back the hell off!"_

_And without another word, he hung up, turning to meet the gaze of a pasty-faced Hitsugaya._

_"I'll need ya ta write me down all the places tha' ya used ta go ta with tha' prick. Includin' the club's address."_

_"Why?" Toushiro uttered shakily. Ichimaru just grinned his wide, empty grin._

_"Jus' in case."_

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_**1. Review.**_

_**2. Link to the missing scene (can also be found in my profile page): ******__******queenofcitrus(then you write a dot and 'livejournal') (then a dot) (then 'com/3243')(then a dot)(then 'html')**_  



	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N: Well, nothing to comment, except I hope you guys are back from all your holiday trips happy and sated. :3 I noticed that this site was practically deserted during the holidays, so I also hope that you've come back. I hope you like this update, seeing as this story is... well, not exactly much of a priority anymore. But I really want to finish it. Really. Aaaand, yes, that was a lot of hoping. xD  
**_

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"ICHIGO, YOU ARE LATE FOR SCHOOL! OPEN UP!" Karin's surprisingly loud voice exploded from the other side of the carrot-top's locked door, bouncing off the walls only to ring profusely in the ears of _both_ of the room's current occupants. Another yell - this one even more vociferous than the first one - and then more banging (and what was probably some pretty cruel kicks) against the poor wooden obstacle that now stood between sister, brother and… well, somebody else.

_Three… Two… One…_

The first few seconds seemed almost normal: the very much expected confused shifting of two rousing minds, the barely visible motion that pulled tightly entangled bodies slightly apart, and then… _realization_. Realization that crashed down on its receivers like a giant wave of icy water, smothering their yawns and pulling them out of their dream land more harshly than the stab of a needle in a man's toe. _Shit, shit, shit- _There were no yips, no screeches, no groans, just the silent series of epileptic limb flails, half-muffled cursing and the inevitable casualty that such chaos always ended up causing… _In this case_, said casualty being Ichigo's unfortunate nose - the very same one, which Toushiro had managed to somehow smash in his attempts to get out of the bed. At the sound of the taller male's low pained moan, they both instantly froze, the soccer captain's eyes widening with surprise and guilt as he spun around to face his lover and slapped both his palms over his mouth (to possibly stifle a loud yelp of his own) at the sight of the orange-haired student, who was currently holding the offended place and viciously biting his lip.

"ICHIGO! THE HELL YOU'RE DOING IN THERE!"

_I'm so sorry! _Hitsugaya mouthed voicelessly when he finally removed his hands from his face, his brows furrowed with concern as he tried to think of what to do while their little 'nest' was being assaulted by an unknown (for him) enemy. Before him the carrot-top just shot his small lover a half-angry, half-forgiving look before cautiously letting go of his throbbing nose and nodding to the boy to start moving. Incident forgotten, they were both out of the bed within a second, each searching for his clothes in the notorious mess that was the carrot-top's bedroom, while mentally complaining about oversleeping and letting this disaster unfold. With his 'injury' still pulsing in unpleasantly warm agony, Ichigo could barely think straight about what he was doing – operating on autopilot around his little kingdom with a brain that was only half-functioning and eyelids that were sticky with the lack of sleep – but he managed to somehow pick a set of fresh clothes and gather the dirty ones on a pile on the nearest chair within about three minutes. Stealing a quick glance at his boyfriend, he felt oddly compassionate, knowing quite well that with Hitsugaya's hygiene mania, the shorter teen was probably aching for a shower. _A shower_, which he could not have with Karin literally breaking the door with her fists and feet.

"Fuck." Toushiro muttered under his breath, struggling with the knotty problem that was his favourite pair of pants at the moment. "_Fuck!_"

At any other time, Ichigo would've found the ungraceful struggle that the boy was seemingly going through to be quite amusing in comparison to the prodigy's usually elevated and unperturbed attitude, but the tiny pained wince that occasionally grasped the smaller body and the tense crease that had appeared above the genius's right brow wiped out every such possibility, making the carrot-top feel quite worried instead. Not only was there nothing funny in their (unplanned) morning mishap, but if Hitsugaya was undergoing any sort of discomfort – both physical and psychological - it was above all the taller male's fault. For one, the white-haired blizzard was apparently under the impression that he needed to try and hide somewhere in the carrot-top's room or sneak out of the house altogether so as not to cause any trouble to his host – a fact that simply could not be taken well by anyone (no matter how tolerant or understanding that somebody claimed to be) _especially_ in the light of the events that had taken place just a few hours ago. And _two_… the boy was in pain - something that was undeniably due to the taller student's lack of preparation the previous night…

Switching his weight from one foot to the other for a second or two, Ichigo bit his lower lip and tried to find it in himself not to feel so incredibly diffident now that they had gone all the way. The aversion to pick up the subject, the notion that the incident was to be avoided as a topic at all cost – those were things that did nothing but ruin relationships. And as he gazed at his boyfriend's tattooed back – the very same one that he had single-handedly undressed the previous night before pulling his drowsy lover to his chest – he realized that despite all the stupid, thoughtless mistakes that he had done during the first week in Karakura High, he did not want to lose Toushiro. Particularly to something as dumb as unnecessary embarrassment and shyness.

"Hey…" walking up behind the shorter male, Ichigo leaned in to give the boy a small kiss on the cheek just as Hitsugaya finally succeeded in pulling his trousers on. "You okay?"

He caught a glimpse of Toushiro's surprised little smile and couldn't help it but grin himself, wrapping his arms around the thin waist in front of him and pulling the smaller body against his own one as he rubbed his nose underneath the captain's ear playfully. The odd warmth of the moment felt almost surrealistic, snatched from some peculiarly designed painting and misplaced in this awkward, plain universe that was reality. There was no time for a lazy, idle waking up, no chances for a breakfast that could be eaten in peace and quiet in the contented afterglows of their prior activities, no kisses to chase away the last remnants of somnolence… In fact, all that they _did_ have was some first-class banging, a room that resembled a square of a minefield rather than a part of a house, and the imminent, looming threat for a long school day. _So far with the romantic setting, huh? _Ichigo couldn't help it but smirk against his lover's skin at the idea. Nervous. Rushed. Uncertain. That was what this morning had turned out to be for them – imperfect and wrong, instead of all those idealistic, Hollywood scenarios that every couple imagined after making love for the first time… This was _not_ how it was meant to be, not according to the movies, the fantasies, novel-stories… and if it _was_, if it _had_ to be this way, then there was no time for sentimental diversions in the tiny lapses between one trouble and the other, everything was supposed to be reduced to mechanical, hurried and urgent actions, no talking, no cuddling, no grey between the white and the black... _Then what are we doing? What are we thinking?_

…Maybe _exactly_ because of the unfitting surroundings, _because _of how unreasonable it was to behave in this neglectful and mindless way when someone was thumping relentlessly on your door, the stolen second or two that they spent pressed together seemed incredibly precious and all the more necessary. This was a promise for something more, an apology and a look beyond what was happening now – that was what Ichigo wanted to convey in the odd silence that he had drawn the smaller male into. And despite how unpretty this 'morning after' had proved to be, it was all okay. It really was.

Because Toushiro _understood_.

"Hey, yourself…" came the soft mutter, but the odd underlining of worry was a factor that Ichigo had not expected. Hitsugaya's chest heaved with a single deep, almost forlorn inhalation, and then he slumped a bit against his lover, allowing himself the minute luxury to place his arms over the carrot-top's ones as he stared with half-lidded eyes in front of himself. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"…For… Just for holding me." Toushiro said, so quietly, so _hesitantly_ that the words almost melted away in the air around them. Ichigo frowned at the implication of incredulity in the white-haired genius' tone, but didn't comment. He wasn't sure what he was meant to say, the awkward 'You're welcome.' burning his lips like hot, liquid lead and pressing to come out, yet not as a simple, well-rehearsed line, but as a question. An expression of wonder that he wanted to clear out while it was still time for this.

…And then – _again_ - the same enquiry, the same, if a little elaborated, sentence, albeit uttered with much more persistence than the first time:

"_Are_ you alright?"

Hitsugaya swallowed with visible difficulty, his shoulder jolting upwards in a single sharp shrug.

"Do you think it was a mistake I came here yesterday?" the boy muttered lowly, his voice soaked with an unrecognizable sort of apprehension that the carrot-top couldn't quite define. "Was I unfair to you?"

"How so?"

"In more ways than you could possibly think of." Toushiro replied vaguely, carefully detaching himself from the comforting embrace that he had been cuddled in just a trice ago, only to leave a perplexing void and a gnawing sense of incompleteness behind himself. Turning around to face the taller male, the genius allowed his lips to curve with timid reassurance as he pulled uselessly at his shirt to possibly straighten the crumpled material. It looked too much like a fidget gesture to be blamed on the simple desire for perfection, and when the boy reaching unconsciously to do the same with his lover's attire once he was finish with his own, the Ichigo's expression visibly softened. "Is there a back door I could possibly use to leave this place unnoticed?"

"I never saw you as someone who'd want to run like a criminal from their boyfriend's bed." the carrot-top teased good-naturedly, gaze glued on the smaller male's face despite the fingers that were now running all over him in a sad attempt to annihilate the tiniest of flaws.

"Boyfriend?" Toushiro repeated, his hand pausing around the taller student's collar for a trice. Ichigo's heart skipped a beat at the hint of shock in the white-haired captain's tone, but the anxiety dissipated the moment Hitsugaya looked up, usually calloused and obdurate features now smoothened by a nearly imperceptible pinkish glow. "Yeah… I like the sound of that."

A loud kick against the door, this one exceptionally loud, had both of them jumping apart and the carrot-top groaned, brown orbs rolling heavenwards with unbidden weariness. Beside him, Toushiro cleared his throat, briefly lost as to what to do, and then he was fussing around for his jacket again, looking for the garment with a bit too much zeal for it to seem natural. For once, the usually deft and reasonable prodigy appeared oddly clumsy, obviously unsure of how to operate in the unusual circumstances, and Ichigo felt the unrestrained urge to take the little guy back in his arms as he realized - _for the first time _- that this was the kid's strange way to be embarrassed.

"Toushiro." When no reply came, the carrot-top tried again, careless for the noise that he was making and the suspicions he could end up raising. "_Toushiro! _Hold on for a sec, will ya?"

Freezing in the middle of what he was doing (which was yet another struggle, this time with his shoe-laces), Hitsugaya stared back at his host with wide, worried eyes.

"You're not," the carrot-top began as he crossed the distance between himself and the genius for a second time this morning. "Leaving this place like some kind of a cheap one-night stand."

"Kurosaki…" the boy muttered, his face twisting in something like a condescending grimace as he nodded unambiguously towards the door. "How are you going to explain this? My presence… to your family?"

The answer came before Ichigo could even consider saying something else.

"I'll think of something."

* * *

"-So when he finally lost the maniac with the fishing hook, he was too shaken to come back home. Incidentally, he found himself a block away from our house, so he called me and asked me if it was okay to spend the night here and I said yes." Ichigo finished authoritatively, making sure to look his father in the eyes as he said so, lest his makeshift story didn't sound convincing enough for the old man. A short, half-muffled resemblance of a laughter echoed from the table behind him and the noise made the carrot-top pause, the vivid image of his boyfriend's mildly amused expression popping in his head a moment before the boy actually spoke around a mouthful of waffles.

"Yeah, yeah, that's _exactly_ how it happened…"

The sarcasm was pretty much glaring in the face of the whole house, impudently daring anyone to try and think with their heads, but considering the circumstances and the fact that it was his _dad_ that he was trying to convince, Ichigo did not comment on Toushiro's biting remark, choosing instead to shrug innocently in hopes to wipe away every trace of distrust in his parent's mind. Before him, Isshin let out a small, pensive 'hmm' and rubbed his chin with the pad of his thumb, an earnest frown knitting his brows together in something that could've been suspicion. The carrot-top didn't say anything, waiting in silence for the final verdict to come in whatever shape of form, but with Hitsugaya's lack of cooperation and the weird looks that he was sure his sisters were giving him from the kitchen table (which they were uncomfortably sharing with a twice as uncomfortable Toushiro) he wasn't sure what kind of chances he had.

As it turns out, his chances weren't that bad after all…

"Well, it sounds pretty plausible." Isshin stated with a shrug. Behind Ichigo, his white-haired lover choked on his breakfast.

* * *

If he had to define Ichigo's family with one word, Hitsugaya would probably pick 'crazy'. The rather weird dad and the three radically different kids seemed like the most unfitting combination of people to live under the same roof. In the short span of time that he had spent with the entire bunch of Kurosakis, Toushiro had witnessed quite astoundingly childish behavior from Isshin's side, violent and disrespectful demeanor from Karin and her brother, and almost nothing but shy little smiles and timid words from bashful, petite Yuzu. Loyal to the first impression that she was making, the dark-haired of the two sisters quickly proved to be a hard-boiled tomboy, slightly hostile and saliently mistrustful… or rather, she _had_ been, until Ichigo had blurted out that his white-haired schoolmate led the soccer team. At that point, the brunette had forgotten all suspicions and shown a startling interest in the short guest, instantly picking up the obnoxious habit to call Hitsugaya by his first name with the same obstinate persistency as her elder sibling. Somewhere in the mess, Isshin had regenerated his body after a short sparring match with his son (_What. The. Hell?_), and asked – very bluntly, and way too honestly – if Toushiro, being so pretty and all, was aware of the carrot-top's 'special' sexual orientation. While the captain just stared wide-eyed at the only supposed adult in the room, an embarrassingly bright blush crawling up his cheeks, Ichigo had launched into shutting his old man up with the same cruel kicks that Karin had probably applied to the bedroom door not so far ago… _That was that with feeling grateful for the rescue…_

After what felt like an eternity, (but was in all honest no more than fifteen pathetic minutes of chaos) Toushiro found himself on the street, still shaking off the shock of meeting his lover's peculiar family, as he and the oddly grumpy carrot-top headed for the school. They were already running late for their first classes – and _quite incredibly late_ for that matter - but somehow neither seemed to bother to speed up after the practically nonexistent amount of sleep that they had got, so they dragged themselves towards the odious building in the slowest and most lazy pace imaginable, all the while soothing their minds with small talk that gradually faded away into silence the bigger Karakura High grew on the horizon…

"Public displays of affection are still not allowed, are they?" Ichigo asked meekly when they paused at the front of the school's gate, the impending length of the day stretching endlessly before them with an ugly, taunting cackle. Hitsugaya bit the side of his mouth at the question, lifting his gaze to rivet concerned teal orbs at the pair of wistful brown ones above him. For the longest, _hardest_ of moments, he felt the explicit urge to give a different answer to this innocent question, to comfort and surrender for what his heart craved and just forget about the others... No matter what the carrot-top thought, Toushiro was no different that any other teenager and he wished to hold hands and kiss unrestrainedly just as much as all the other brats his age... '_Showing off_' in such a way, however, would be an unwary, rushed, _thoughtless_ thing to do, and while his gut was already telling him that there was no use hiding, that it would all end up in the same nasty way, he desperately wanted to believe otherwise. He wanted to hope that he could preserve this little splinter of privacy just for himself, tuck it away somewhere where no one could damage it with their ugly gossip, their half-muffled jeers, and above all with the uncontrollable and destructible jealousy that one particular person could display…

"Sorry." Toushiro whispered candidly. When Ichigo did nothing but smile despondently at what was probably a much expected response, the genius allowed his expression to melt into a softer, much more regretful one. Forgetting for a single precious minute the fears that he had about being seen by uninvited eyes, the boy pressed two cold fingers to his lips and without breaking eye contact, lifted his digits to brush them against his lover's mouth in a kiss that spoke thousands of volumes in its inconspicuous chastity. He spotted Kurosaki's own hand reaching for the white-haired teen's thin wrist to maybe hold it in place for just a tad bit longer than planned, but Hitsugaya pulled away too quickly for that to happen. _Enough risks…Enough… _ "I'll see you later."

And with that, they parted.

* * *

He could only imagine the mess that he currently resembled. Distracted and heedless expression, drooping, probably even sodden eyes, slightly crumpled, neglected attire, and most of all an air of exhaustion and brooding anxiety that gave him the indistinct look of a sick man. Toushiro felt exposed like an open book, _naked_ to gazes that weren't even there to follow him, and worried, because he had no idea what he was going to do now. He couldn't bring himself to regret the previous night or the words that he had spoken – so open and honest in comparison to anything he had shared with another person the last few years - but at the same time what he had allowed himself to do, the façade that he had let to crumble off his face so easily… those unwelcomed memories lavished him with an odd sense of insecurity. It was almost as though the simple intimate decision of the soul would somehow set off a destructible chain reaction, the damage of which would affect far more than just one person, one fate or one belief… Who was going to be the villain to ignite the wick, however… that was a different deal.

Dragging himself from one class to the other, Hitsugaya briefly considered just going home and collapsing into his bed. A good rest and some peace and quiet would definitely do him some good in his state: the tranquility was going to soothe his troubled nerves, his body would recover its fraying strength and his slightly muddled head would clear out from the mist that had wrapped around his thoughts so wickedly… And then what? Then… _Nothing_. Ichigo and he, they were going to continue acting the way they had been so far, they would keep what they had for themselves, play this silly game of masquerade till they were absolutely sure that they could take the disguises off… How long that was all going to take – that was irrelevant and unimportant detail.

Pressing his lips together, Toushiro dodged a few overly friendly faces in the crowded corridor, taking the familiar turns with mechanical determination and something of a conscious blindness to the grey and artificial surroundings, until he found his locker among the long line of identical metal boxes. The noises from the animated halls were bugging him more than usual, prodding at his straining patience with breezy fingers that somehow ended up aggravating the boy's drowsiness even more than what a calm and quiet environment would. Truth to be told, he hadn't realized completely just _how_ enervated he was till he had actually entered his first class and seated himself in his place after a morning of quite a lot of action and twice as many stress as he had been prepared for. The monotone voice of the teacher in combination with the lack of sleep and the faint alarm that quivered on Toushiro's unsteady horizon had urged him in two fundamentally different directions which had only added up to his indisposition. Now, as he found himself clumsily battling with his locker's code, Hitsugaya couldn't help it but wish for just one, _one_ single cigarette... At times like this he almost regretted giving up on smoking. The bittersweet aftertaste of the tobacco and the heavy scent of the light poison seemed nearly magical at the moment – an unreachable, albeit pathetic high that could help him loosen up, if just for a few minutes…

Hitsugaya opened his locker and peered inside, taking a second to remember which textbook he needed to fetch from the tremendous pile that was literally chocking up the tiny cubicle of space. _Right, chemistry… _Letting out a weary sigh, the boy reached half-blindly inside and tugged on the needed book, surprised when it showed a momentary resistance before yielding… _Yielding_, along with half the content of the teen's personal 'cupboard'.

"Shit!" jerking forward belatedly, Toushiro tried in vain to thwart the avalanche of student supplies with a series of butterfingered and badly coordinated movements, his clumsy hands barely catching a single handbook, while a dozen more spilled out on the floor. Eyes widened with disbelief at the unexpected mishap, the boy stood still for a few blank seconds, breathing evenly lest he lost his temper and ended up causing a scene over nothing. _Dammit, I'm going to end up being late for the next class, too? _Clenching his teeth together, Hitsugaya abandoned all courtesy and knelt on the floor, too tired to preserve any joke of a decency as he started gathering his things up with the idleness of a man who had hardly found it in himself to start the strenuous process at all. The by now painfully familiar shriek of the bell rang across the corridor – loud and menacing for all the late stray creatures that still hadn't made it to the respectful room – and within a trice all paces had sped up, all talking had rushed into a string of only half-coherent rattles, and every chances for getting a hand from some benevolent person had vanished into thin air. By the time Toushiro was done jamming his textbooks back in the locker, the halls were deserted and unpleasantly silent, almost eerie in their abandoned, colourless glory. Checking one last time that nothing was going to crumple onto the floor when he opened his locker again later, Hitsugaya clutched the one textbook he needed to his chest and reached for the door, only to have it slam shut in front of his face without his help.

"What the-"

"Mornin'." A familiar silky voice spoke near the teen's ear and the soccer captain froze, eyes growing wide as two large, pale palms landed on the row of lockers on either side of his body. "How are we feelin' t'day?"

_Officially fucked._

"Perfect." Toushiro found himself gritting out, uneasiness poisoning his heartbeat faster than he had expected as he sensed, smelled, _tasted_ the warm breath that ghosted seductively across the back of his neck. The familiar waft of Gin's cologne wrapped its elusive, aerial finger around the white-haired boy's body and crept deep inside his organism similarly to an ethereal drug that awakened not one, but _dozens_ of memories, _hundreds_ of images. "What do you want?"

"Straight ta the deal, ne, neko? If I didn' kno' any betta, I'd say ya're tryin' ta get rid of me." Ichimaru crooned tauntingly, the shuffle of one single step closer making the shorter teen's skin prickle with some indefinite emotion. Toushiro could almost literally see the slick, elegant leaning of the larger frame over his own, the barely noticeable arch of the long, lean spine above his much smaller one, and the growing, albeit humourless smile that this silver-haired person wore… So when the fox lowered his head and nuzzled against the side of the genius' neck, the movement came as no surprise to the boy, it just made him realize for an umpteenth time how well he knew his ex... "Mmm… Ya stink like 'im. Ya _reek_ of anotha' man, sweetheart, an' I bet I ain't the only one who can feel it, too."

"What. Do you want?" Hitsugaya repeated in a hard hiss and the aggression that peered through his tone surprised even him as he fought the urge to turn around and face his former lover. God, he still hadn't learned… He _still_ didn't have the slightest idea of how to handle this man. Even with the gusto of an anger that would forever burn inside his chest, Toushiro could feel his knees going weak anyways, crippled by the shadow of an erstwhile love that would hurt him, _haunt_ him for as long as he lived, no matter what he did and who he let inside his heart.

"There's a party t'night at one of mah friends' place. Are ya comin'?" Ichimaru asked lowly and his right hand fell off the lockers, bringing down one of the walls of the illusive cage that he had erected around the smaller male. "I'd really like it fo' ya ta be there… I'll be good, promise. Jus' wanna see ya more often than a stolen minute in the hallway."

"I can't." Toushiro snapped, before the solicitously deep voice could drag him in too far. Then added with a bit too harsh stressing on the word. "_Sorry_."

Behind him Ichimaru just chuckled icily, white, slender fingers lifting to brush against the smaller male's clothed hipbone as the he leaned even closer towards his prey. The nearly non-existent touch sent shivers down Hitsugaya's stiff backbone, enflaming something old and tantalizing that both frightened and excited him. That hand, mouth, voice, they did nothing but blemish, corrupt and then… then _dispose_, neglect, mistreat_…_ and yet they thrilled, too, they aroused you also… And so when ever so slowly, almost imperceptibly so, the edge of the shirt was lifted up, Toushiro barely noticed anything till the scalding burn of Gin's digits brushed against his own flushing skin.

"Rough night, huh?" Ichimaru muttered, but the sneer underneath the soft tone was scorching hot and Hitsugaya tensed, caught like a rabbit in the headlights as the man's hand traced ticklish patterns along the smooth flesh up his waist. "Did he let ya sleep at all, hm?"

"Stop it. Just… Just _stop_." Toushiro whispered but when he moved to pull away, Gin suddenly wrapped his other arm around the smaller body, pulling them flush together in a way that had the soccer captain gasping in shock. "I'm late for class, Ichimaru, let me go."

"An' what if I dun feel like it?"

"This isn't fair!" Hitsugaya ground out, making an effort to worm out of the other one's grasp only to realize quite soon that it was no use. Growing still, yet unwilling and rigid in Gin's embrace, Toushiro closed his eyes, shaking his head from side to side slowly. "It isn't fair to punish me for trying to move on."

"Ya can't move on with tha' guy." Ichimaru tutted knowingly. "He's fake an' wrong fo' ya, jus' someone who wants a ticket ta the top. Ya kno' I'm right, ya jus' dun want to admit it."

"He's more genuine than you ever were." Toushiro hissed irritably, his eyes narrowing to angry slits as he made yet another fruitless attempt to free himself. "More honest than you'll _ever_ be."

"Tch. So naïve."

"You're a bastard."

"Slut." Ichimaru shot back easily, not even bothering to lower his voice as he let the word drip from his lips. "But le's not go too far. I promised ya some proof an' I'm gonna get ya one. I jus' want ya ta kno' tha' so ya wouldn' end up too hurt at the end."

"Like you care!" Toushiro spat, but behind him Gin just clicked his tongue ones, before letting go of the smaller student.

"I always have."

And with that, he let go of the captain and walked away.

_Without slowing down his hurried gait, Ichimaru glanced distractedly at his outmoded electronic watch on his left wrist, noting somewhere at the back of his head that it was nearing two in the morning – a dead hour which he was meant to be spending in his warm bed rather than outside in the open. The night summer air seemed unusually cold, hardened under the fain glow of the silvery moon that hung so leisurely up above his head along with the numerous ladies-in-waiting that were the spills of stars across the black nocturnal dome. With a hoodie wrapped tightly around his slender body and another, similar one hanging from the curve of his elbow, the teen half-walked, half-ran down the empty streets with purpose and determination, the knowledge that he was already quite close to his aim pushing him to move even faster. A lone breath, then an angry whoosh of heated air between tightly clenched teeth, and he shook his head, cursing unknown names, unfamiliar people and the stupid choices of one particular person. Somewhere inside his ribcage the irritation and remonstrance pushed against his bones and lungs, squeezing his thumping heart in a clutch that was oddly resilient against any struggle, and he groaned throatily. Ichimaru was furious. He was irritated, acid, angry…_

…_But above all those feelings, above the primal need to take his wrath out on something or someone, there was _another_… much more frightening emotion… Which resembled concern way too much for the fox's liking._

_Making a sharp turn around the next corner, Gin found himself at the beginning of a small, abandoned playground. Somewhere at the back of the playground, a low building could be seen, its windows emitting the dulled, half-conceived light of a mediocre dance club. A couple of cracked street lamps were the only sources of illumination in this empty and abandoned place, and for a couple of moments Ichimaru was left standing stupidly, unsure if he had reached the right place after all…_

"_Giiiin…" a soft voice lilted from his right and then something moved – a feeble joke of a motion that immediately caught the silver-haired lad's attention. Frowning cautiously in the dimmed light, Ichimaru jogged towards the sound, pace slowing down to a halt when the silhouette of a bench emerged from the shadows along with a puny body that lay sprawled across the aged wooden surface._

"_Dammit, pet…" the man muttered as he crouched next to the boy, not surprised in the slightest when the child just smiled dreamily, eyes sliding shut with a something like a delighted hum. "High as a kite, I see."_

"_Whyyyy else would I have called you?" Toushiro muttered with surprising sensibility. Then: "I now want a kite, too. How many kites do you have?"_

"_Plenty. I'll give ya one when we get home." Ichimaru deadpanned as he pulled the smaller student up in a sitting position as carefully as possible. Taking one short, critical look at the silver-haired teen, the man ran his palms up the boy's bare arms, frown deepening at how cold the skin seemed. "Ya're freezin', neko, why didn' ya stay inside tha'… what is it? A club?"_

"_Cuz Grimm got angry with me." Toushiro replied dejectedly, turning his arms ever so slowly in his lap, till the inner side was exposed for his lover to see. "Look."_

_Lowering his gaze down towards Hitsugaya's knees, Gin felt something inside him turn to ice at the sight of the two fresh burn-marks, round and red, that were now marring the once flawless white flesh of the kid's forearms. Gritting his teeth together, the older lad reached to drape the sweatshirt that he had brought with himself over the boy's shoulders and started to get up, only to pause when Toushiro's hand clutched his wrist._

"_You're not going in there, are you?" the smaller teen mumbled uncertainly, fisting the material a bit harder in his weak grip. "You're taking me home… You said… You said you would take me home…"_

_Allowing his tense muscles to relax, Ichimaru let out a deep sight before getting on his feet a bit more calmly and much more reluctantly. Reaching for the thin body below, he wrapped an arm around Hitsugaya's waist and slipped the other one under the boy's knees, picking the light form up with hardly any trouble whatsoever._

"_Le's get a cab." Gin said lowly as he adjusted his precious luggage more comfortably against his chest. "I'm takin' ya ta mah place, these blisters need some ointment on them…" when Toushiro merely buried his face in the crook of the taller bloke's neck in response, the fox huffed, something like an indignation bubbling inside his stomach. "Why the hell would he get angry with you?"_

"_Cuz I told him I have a boyfriend." Hitsugaya whispered evenly._

* * *

_**A/N: Must I tell you to review?**_

_**Oh, well. Review! :3  
**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: So several things to say:**_

_**1. This chapter turned out a little bit different from the other ones I've written. It has a symmetrical composition, things are happening on several places in the timeline. I'm trying to make things move on a decent pace, so I really hope this doesn't sound like it's too soon... I mean the things that happen.  
**_

_**2. There isn't all the much more left from this story. I mean, it's not ending in the next 3 chapters, for sure, but it won't reach further than ch. 25 TOPS! :3**_

_**3. I just want to say, to all you anonymous reviewers out there who make me happy... It'd be so awesome if you had an account so I could reply to your reviews like I want to. Special thanks to the person named Pseudonymous Bosch who's really made me smile these days. I want to say thank you for all the lovely reviews you left me, and it'd be nice if you got an account. :3**_

_**4. I hope you enjoy. ^^**_

* * *

_The lights from the police cars were the first thing that Gin noticed when he arrived at work that day. Three or four cars, empty, unlocked, parked randomly in and out of the street, were surrounding Toushiro's apartment buildings, a bunch of uniformed men roaming around the place, talking to nervous-looking neighbours or discussing things between each other in half-muffled tone. It didn't appear as though something particularly dangerous was happening, but the atmosphere was definitely not a happy one… And so without much thought, the teen crossed over and walked straight to the first non-cop that he found, a hint of worry lessening the usual grin that he wore on his face as he stood beside the large figure of one of the civilians._

"_Wha' happened 'ere?"_

_The man that he addressed was around his fifties, rather obese, rather unkempt, but he seemed to recognize Ichimaru as one of the people that worked across the street and instead of brushing the student off like most people would, he just shrugged and nodded towards the edifice in front of them._

"_The woman from the second floor hung herself" the guy replied, crossing his ridiculously large arms in front of his chest. "I didn't know her very well, but I'm pretty sure she had a kid. They are trying to find him now, although from the looks of it he ran off after he saw her like this in the living-room. One of the neighbours found the front door ajar and decided to check what it was all about. That's how they discovered the body."_

_Ichimaru's head snapped towards the man and he felt every bit of smile leave his face, a deep, gnawing sense of terror clutching at his insides._

"…_Ran off?" he repeated mechanically, and the stranger nodded his head, not really noticing the look that had fallen across the silver-haired lad's face._

"_Yeah… Poor boy, can't really blame him. He must've been in shock, finding his mom like that…"_

_Gin didn't even wait to hear the rest of it._

* * *

"I think you might be magical."

"Magical?" Hitsugaya chuckled, pressing a little harder on the other one's shoulders before moving the pads of his thumbs in smooth little circles along the length of the muscles. Beneath the captain's touch the carrot-top grew visibly more pliable, a low moan of approval escaping his lips as he allowed himself to melt into the warm glow of half-awareness. "You sure you're feeling alright, Kurosaki?"

"Perfect." Ichigo mumbled lazily, releasing a small hum of content when his diminutive boyfriend slid his fingers to the back of the orange-haired lad's neck, massaging the areas with well-practiced slowness. "You've got magical hands…"

Behind him Toushiro just snorted, shaking his head as he gave his ministrations a pause to adjust himself more comfortably behind the older student. Hitsugaya's apartment was empty save for the two of them, for Ukitake had taken off for yet another business trip some time that morning, warning his nephew about his absence via a single hastily-written note in which he also claimed that he'd be back by next Sunday evening. Although Ichigo could tell that the captain wasn't exactly happy to be left alone in the solitary vastness of the flat so soon after getting some company back, the unexpected twist of events had turned out to suit both their needs as after one of the most exhausting Fridays in the history of school, they had managed to receive permission to spend the weekend together, and were currently cuddled on the immaculate grey sofa in the centre of the living-room… Or rather, the carrot-top was sitting on the edge of said piece of furniture, Toushiro positioned right behind him, while his skinny, sweatpants-clad legs remained locked in front of the taller male's body, the boy's bare feet resting meekly in Ichigo's lap as though in quiet warning for the strawberry not to move. Not that it was necessary… The carrot-top had absolutely no intentions to get up, not with how gently for once the tranquility had draped over him, not when he hadn't felt this at ease in ages… The soothing veil of warmth and intimacy had wrapped seemingly endless arms around the two of them, creating a small nook of isolated snugness from the rest of the world – an invisible sphere of a sort, which resembled a resplendent shard of bliss just as much as it tasted like a willing blindness. A cursed illusion that was waiting for the perfect and most painful moment to start cracking.

But Ichigo wasn't about to allow this to dictate the rules any longer.

"It doesn't take rocket science to give a back-rub." Hitsugaya muttered matter-of-factly, the nuance of irony in his voice trembling with kind amusement. "I just hate to see you complaining non-stop about how much your neck hurts from practice or sleeping in class."

"Aw, you do care!"

"I do care about my mental soundness, yes." The captain confirmed self-importantly, but despite the slightly accusing words, Ichigo could literally savor the smile on the boy's lips. "Besides… I actually enjoy touching you."

The sincere, almost bashful undertone that coloured that statement had the carrot-top trying to bite back a grin despite the fact that Hitsugaya couldn't possibly see it. The whole situation was incredibly endearing in its ordinariness. The TV was on, buzzing almost soundlessly against the opposite wall - an artificial supply in an artificial world - but as the sweet rusty shades of the sunset crawled languidly towards the windows, the warmth from the day dissipating in the air, Ichigo had to admit there was nothing better than wasting his time like this. This whole place… No matter how unnaturally neat and orderly it seemed, no matter how much meticulous efforts had been put into turning it into a sterile, devoid of human touch dimension, still carried something unique, something that didn't logically belong there… And that something, as paradoxical as it was, lingered in the intoxicating scent of home that was floating serenely in every molecule of air around them…

…The carrot-top closed his eyes for a moment.

Maybe he was going too far. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, putting so much meaning into some teenage relationship that hadn't even been given the time to ripe yet… But Toushiro felt like home. Like care, and warmth, and something else, something deep, and intense, and _incandescent_ that he couldn't quite bring himself to name at the moment... It was enflaming his whole body, day and night, brewing deep inside his chest similarly to a deadly and at the same time vital concoction. And no matter how much he tried to tell himself that he was sinking far too much and far too quickly, the facts were present, the need for closeness, for self-expression… it was there. So, as the boy's tiny hand slid over the taller student's shoulder for an umpteenth time that afternoon, Ichigo reached back and caught the dainty little wrist, holding it in place for a second.

"Is something bothering you?"

Those weren't the words he was playing to voice, but as soon as they left his mouth, the carrot-top realized that he had been mulling over them for quite a while now. He noticed Hitsugaya's fingers tremble ever so slightly at the soft certainty of the question, but other than that nothing changed (at least not visibly) in the prodigy's demeanor.

"I'm just tired." The boy muttered, but in spite of Ichigo's expectations, the other student didn't try to pull away from his lover's grip. Quite the opposite, actually: as the carrot-top turned his head to the side to press a single peck to the pale knuckles of the captain's hand, Toushiro's index finger lifted to caress his lover's hand in a gesture of surprisingly honest tenderness that was nearly painful to endure. "Don't worry about it."

For a second Ichigo was sincerely tempted to give this a little push. Maybe if he poked it the right way and insisted long enough than maybe, just maybe, the boy would yield and spill what was on his mind… But then… Was that even a fair thing to do?

It didn't matter what the carrot-top's opinion on this was, and it was of no importance just how ridiculous it could seem to always be concerned about who you might be hurting if you actually dared to pursue personal happiness… What counted was how Toushiro felt about their current predicament. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that whenever the boy was brooding, watching the world through shineless, exhausted eyes and smiling those little smiles of his that irrevocably held a hint of sadness in them, this undoubtedly meant that the issue had to do with Ichimaru.

…God, jealousy had never felt like such a pathetic, bitter emotion.

"Come here."

Slowly, cautiously, Ichigo turned around and gathered the smaller teen in his arms, lowering the slim little body on the sofa so that he was now hovering over Toushiro's diminutive figure in an almost protective kind of manner. Beneath him, Hitsugaya was merely a supple, homily dressed version of his usual haughty and irreproachable self, the thin material of the fraying grey T-shirt and the baggy sweats making the thinness of that tiny frame stand out all the more. _Dammit… You're so, so amazing… _And so much more than that, in so many ways, perhaps not only because of the salient beauty of the skin that the boy carried, but also because of this odd sense of vulnerability which resurfaced every once in a while, too. Now, as he was gazing down at the person before him, Ichigo couldn't believe it had been less than 24hours since he had had this immaculate creation all to himself, he couldn't fathom how he could've-… how it had turned out so that he had been _given_ the chance and the permission to take something so precious. In so many ways, it was no wonder Ichimaru was still incapable of letting go, and in so many ways… it was sad that somebody could be as foolish as to lose Toushiro in the first place.

"…What?" it came out as a confused whisper, a sound that barely made the boy's lips move at all, and it was only then that Ichigo realized just how long he had been staring down at his lover, surveying the pale features with strangely scrunched up brows and wandering eyes that seemed to search, search, _search_… For so much more than a single, one-word answer. An answer that he knew both of them needed.

"Nothing." The carrot-top replied. And in the momentary stillness that followed, he ducked down to capture Hitsugaya's lips in a kiss.

* * *

Gin had always made him feel helpless.

It wasn't something that most people would get, it was just… a fact. A recurrent sensation that never failed to make an appearance, a factor that had always been there, that had always existed to oppress him; a nuance that few noticed and even fewer understood. Toushiro remembered the time when he had first come to Karakura, shaken to the core by the news that he actually had a relative that wanted to take care of him, scared to the bottom of his heart by the unfamiliar environment that he was going to face, and at the same time strangely excited by the presence of Ichimaru's hand – invariably resting on his shoulder, constantly ready to hold onto his shaking fingers. You'd say Gin would have a problem showing up in front of his friends with a boyfriend rather than a girlfriend after insisting so vehemently that he was straight; you'd say he'd back off or try to be discreet about his unusual relationship the way most people would do in his shoes… but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, as he was first introduced to the vast, stony halls of Karakura high and met by the well-lit, modern classrooms and corridors – all of which filled to the brim with chatty students and gruff teachers - Toushiro realized that he was stepping into a completely different universe. And not in the role of the new kid that everybody were going to make fun of till some other victim showed up on the horizon, Hitsugaya was entering into these social thickets arm in arm with the local prince, and nobody… _nobody_ would dare say a thing about it.

It didn't matter that the boy was puny, underweight, shorter than short and rather withdrawn when compared to most of the other students. Gin liked him, so everybody else did, as weird as that could seem to an outside viewer. Incidentally, the fact that the tall, ever-grinning student was now openly displaying his small companion to the world brought far more good than bad, despite Toushiro's initial fears. In the confines of that one school building, the idea of liking somebody from your own gender ceased to represent some kind of an issue. It wasn't shameful, wrong or disgusting.

It was just as acceptable as everything else Ichimaru pointed out as such.

And Hitsugaya wasn't about to complain... Not really.

Gin took his innocence a few days after their first New Year's eve as a couple, claiming him as his with such passion and devotion that that night the boy actually believed that it would last forever. That _they_ _could_ last forever, despite all odds, despite everything that stood in their way, that they could truly survive… Toushiro could recall every heated caress, every cool touch, soothing kiss, every thrust in, every pull out, every tear he had shed as he had tried to swallow the pain, every moan that he had fought to stifle as the pleasure had overridden his senses. He could remember all of it, as though it had been yesterday when it had happened. His favourite year ever. His perfect January.

By that time, he had already been declared as quite an astounding student, evoking discussions about possible transition to higher grades and the potential benefits one such pupil could have for the school's reputation. Toushiro couldn't be bothered to care. Whether he would have to solve the math problems of a whole class of 14-year-olds or 16-year-olds was practically of no importance to him. He had other things to consider… Other things that had caught his attention quite a long time ago.

When he first told Gin that he was planning to make an attempt to enter the soccer team, Hitsugaya was met with just one amused little chuckle and the promise that Ichimaru would try to make the coach be more lenient towards the boy. It had been like a stab in the gut to be addressed as someone so _obviously_ unable to achieve anything even remotely more challenging than the answer of an equation of the fourth degree. In a conversation that had quickly left the definition of pleasant, Toushiro had been reminded of his long abandoned smoking habits, his addiction to weed, and a whole lot of other things that his lover and he had previously had the unspoken agreement never to pick up again. Sure, Ichimaru had been on the school team for a few years now, quite a star on the field, judging by what Hitsugaya had been told, but that didn't provide him with the justified right to talk in such a degrading manner to someone he was supposed to care for… _No_… It wasn't fair, _dammit_, it wasn't _right_, and although his heart refused to accept fully what was happening, his mind wasn't on the same opinion... Never before had Toushiro felt this hurt by something the man had said to him. Never before, _never_, had Gin treated him so neglectfully, so resentfully, so… _cruelly_. So instead of giving up like his lover had probably expected him to, Toushiro did the exact opposite – he worked harder than ever to achieve his goal. And when after excruciatingly long hours of running, grueling exercises, constant training and whatnot, he was finally accepted into the team – an occasion that his boyfriend managed to ruin with plenty of patronizing smirks and lines that slowly chipped at the white-haired teen's patience – he was met with the next disappointment: the almost hostile, well-neigh taunting attitude that his lover persisted on shoving in his face on a daily basis after the incident. Perhaps Ichimaru had expected him to yield, to bend under the pressure and turn tail like a beaten dog. Perhaps it had been something else that had driven the older student to behave in such a way – perhaps not. But whatever it was that Gin had been planning, it had all gone to hell the moment Hitsugaya had stepped on the field for his first real game.

It was one of the most enthralling, galvanizing sensations he had ever experienced… The adrenaline that had invaded his blood-system, the eyes and screams of the crowd, the strain to show what you were _really_ capable of: it was all too much, and yet so far from enough for him… They won 4:1 against the other team, and three of the goals Toushiro scored himself.

It was a night that was supposed to be ecstatic: full of dancing, hooting, drinking and high-spirited discussions of the downright incredible game. But instead of letting go and enjoying the victory party that someone else had thrown in their honour, the young genius spent the evening with a plastic cup of beer in his hand, abandoned all alone in the corner of the room, and watching as his lover flirted around with every female representative that happened to have the misfortune to stumble with inebriated giggles in his direction. Toushiro had heard enough stories about Ichimaru's 'womanizer' days before; he had literally seen, smelled and tasted the lust that rolled off in waves from the girls the fox strode by on a daily basis, and although up till this moment he had never given this much of a thought, the scenes that were unraveling so vulgarly before him now, literally had _gall_ gathering in his throat, the mild amount of alcohol he was consuming sucking every molecule of happiness out of his system. Hitsugaya remembered getting up from his place around 11pm and gathering his things, his eyes glued on Gin as he walked straight up to him and hissed one rather loud 'Don't bother calling.' before marching right out of the house and towards the nearest taxi stand.

He didn't really think Ichimaru would follow his advice and back off, and neither did he honestly want to be apart from his boyfriend for a long period of time, but what he definitely hadn't expected… was to find the older student on his threshold 30minutes after he had come home.

It had been their first real fight, and Toushiro had hated every second of it. Every yell, every accusation, every curse. He still did… He still hated how Gin had refused to admit to doing anything wrong, he hated the way his lover hadn't listened to a thing that had left the boy's mouth, he hated himself for saying that Ichimaru couldn't bear seeing his little failure raise on his feet instead of rolling in the dirt the way the fox had probably expected him to do.

You take me for a doll that can't fight back, a trophy that can't develop, can't think, speak or choose. But I _can_, I can do all of these things, and I can do them _better_ than you. This is the problem, isn't it? It's killing you to see, to _know _that you might not be my one and only sun, shining out there in the sky as I worship the brilliant rays you're so mercifully letting me bask into. That I might find someone better, someone more appealing, more interesting, someone who can give me more than your fucked up idea of love, and that I'll _want_ that, now that I've realized that I don't really need _you_ to drag me forward…

…He hated how easy it had been for Gin to just grab him and pin him down like a puppet with no bones and no muscles. He hated how he hadn't been able to resist when his boyfriend had taken him, roughly, and cruelly, and savagely, forcing him to endure so much more than his body could handle.

That night he had cried out of humiliation and misery; he had wept candidly and desperately, like a child might, squeezing his eyes so hard it hurt as the tears rolled, hot and heavy, down his flustered cheeks. Pressed down on the floor of his own apartment, underneath a man who was supposed to love and protect him, Toushiro had not shouted for help the way he probably should've, but rather sobbed out as much physical and emotional agony as his exhausted being could possibly allow him to.

He should've broken it off right away, he knew he should've… Ichimaru had hurt him in the worst way possible, leaving him bruised and bleeding not only on the outside, but deep, deep beneath his skin as well. His screams had been neglected, his pain hadn't mattered, his weakness had been taunted… all of this because-… Because what?

_Because what?_

…_Why?_

He chased the man out the next day with nearly hysterical screeches, slamming the door shut behind his teammate with enough force to jam it into that thick silver-haired head that he didn't want to see the taller student ever again. But when the next night Gin came to him, drunk out of his mind and intoxicated to the point where he couldn't possibly lie, it had taken Toushiro mere _minutes_ to find it in himself to forgive… to forgive those painful touches, the heartless treatment, the anguish that he hadn't been prepared to endure. Because Ichimaru _needed_ him, needed _him_, _needed_ to be loved… So much so, that the mere idea that at some point Hitsugaya might end up not wanting him back, was terrifying the older teen beyond belief.

And so Toushiro took him back like the last fool, hoping that all of this had been a pebble on an otherwise perfectly smooth path to happiness.

Oh, how wrong he had been to assume that…

From that night on, whenever things spun out of control, whenever an argument went too far, Toushiro would suffer the consequences, screaming and kicking, but always eventually losing the battle. He would be bent over some surface, immobilized and defenseless, and in spite of all his hoarse '_don't_'s, he'd endure the results of their confrontation in the same horrible way he had the night of his first soccer game. And as if it wasn't enough, as though being treated like garbage didn't bring the needed results, Gin would _always_ find a way to break him completely. The moment his body began to respond – unwillingly and unnaturally despite the mind's desires - the mockery would begin. He would be taunted for actually _wanting_ it, for enjoying the very same abuse that would leave him aching and wretched for days afterwards… And it would hurt worse than anything else. Because in his state, pressed lifelessly against whatever furniture, wall or floor had been closest, Hitsugaya would never have the energy to defend himself against such assault.

The blows would land freely, easily, always hitting the needed target, always making the boy bleed just a little bit more...

Yes, Gin had always made him feel helpless…

The guy was like 30 different personalities, jammed into the same body. Some of them Toushiro loved, some of them he despised… but there were those who terrified him, too. Those who, once unleashed, would block every attempt for reasoning that came from the outside, and instead damage, twist, mar every bit of Ichimaru that was worth caring for. Hitsugaya remembered 'breaking up' with the fox at least a dozen times, sobbing on the verge of insanity that he couldn't take it anymore, but somehow… somehow they would end up together again, just days later. And the vicious cycle would begin once more.

Until one day Gin kissed somebody else.

Toushiro didn't even know who she was, or what it had been that his supposed boyfriend wanted to get back at him for; he could only recall how much it had hurt. The betrayal, and disbelief, and the utter, all-consuming feeling of injustice, it had dug too deeply, too painfully for him to walk over his own heart for the umpteenth time. So he had ended it.

At first Ichimaru didn't really believe that it was the actual finish-line. He had thought that like every other time, Toushiro would just need a couple of days to cool off and then they could work it out. After years of bouncing on the same routine, the boy couldn't really blame him for making such an assumption, it was only natural that after so long Gin would not feel any weight in the statement when his lover proclaimed that they were over. It made Hitsugaya understand all too clearly how degraded their relationship had become, how easy to manipulate…

_Not this time, though._

Not this time.

Yes, he had slipped, and more than once, too. He had allowed Gin back in his bed against all reason, and he had done that out of weakness, out of need to feel loved and wanted again. He had craved the familiar touch, the endless kisses, the excitement of being with someone so unattainable, and he had yield under those wishes easily and entirely, because not only had he not grown indifferent towards Ichimaru yet – he knew that the older student felt the same way, too. They were still on the same boat, shaking with the everlasting waves that were trying to crush them, and clinging onto something that had long ago ceased to be normal. The holes were way too many to keep them above the surface… And if Gin had chosen to stay blind to it, if he wanted to neglect how wrong everything was going, that did not make two of them. Toushiro wasn't going to let himself drown like that, _no_, not when he had only just learned what it was to _breathe_.

…And…

_And_…

Gin had always made him feel helpless.

It wasn't just a statement, it was the solid truth. A fact. An anomaly. A gift.

Toushiro was feeling helpless now, too. Small. Because he knew his erstwhile lover was up to something, and it was killing him that he had no way to do anything about it.

* * *

"What's wrong…?" the susurration came to him from seemingly miles away and Toushiro shook his head, trying in vain to regain his composure as reality crashed down on him, hard and merciless. With one hand covering his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep him from uttering a sound, his eyes screwed shut too tightly for it to be normal and his face turned away from where Ichigo had been kissing his neck just a moment ago, the genius realized that he could barely hold himself together. And not because of what he and the carrot-top were doing… but rather because for the first time ever he had been able to look at his relationship with Gin from a sober, rational point of view.

…And understand just how doomed it had all been all along.

_Gods…_

So much suffering. So much pain. And for what?

Just to find himself miserable and alone in his bed every time; exhausted, wrecked, clutching the sheets around his bare shoulders as he stared emptily at the wall before him, craving secretly for their next little encounter to arrive sooner. He had behaved and thought, and understood the world the way only an ill person with a lethal addiction could. He hadn't fought hard enough, he hadn't resisted the way he should've, and he'd bled… he'd bled… till his body had lost all hope of recovery. He had sought cure in touches that only cauterized his skin, he had dreamt of the alleviating kisses of someone, whose lips had only poisoned him more… And… Along with all of that, he had never had any idea as to what Gin had been looking for in that fucked up excuse of a bond between them; he hadn't really dared to ask. But once, when he was drifting away after another one of those forbidden nights of theirs, he had faintly heard Ichimaru whisper something in his ear, something that had haunted him for months afterwards. _Ya let me believe that someday I could be good enough fo' ya… Wish I was strong enough ta see through that illusion._

He didn't think it had been a confession truly made for his ears, that it had been meant for him, for the world, for _anyone_… but at least it was something. A speck of an answer, a crumb, a splinter of understanding. What a foolish game they had been playing, though! Which side had been winning? Which side hasn't been losing…?

…Had it ever had a point?

"Toushiro… Toushiro, please, look at me…"

He just mutely shook his head again, hoping, _hoping_ that the feeling would subside soon and he would be able to collect himself quickly enough for Ichigo not to worry. He honestly had no idea why he felt like crying; what kind of a sick part of him wanted to ruin this moment with undeserved tears of regret and an unseemly, ugly scene of weakness that the carrot-top did not deserve to witness… But he couldn't help himself, he had done so for too long, about so many things without gaining anything in return. And so as an uncertain finger brushed some unruly lock of hair away from his closed eyes and then another grazed pleadingly across his wrist, Toushiro didn't try to writhe away from the touch. Maybe he could let himself be weak in a different way for once, maybe, just maybe, he could trust Ichigo enough to not hate or mock him for it…

"I don't know what to do… Please, tell me what is it, did I… did I hurt you?" Ichigo whispered with desperate urgency, obviously lost as to how to react to the sudden change in the mood. Toushiro could sense the taller student's panic, raising by the second, escalating, bubbling beneath layers of skin, blood, bones, and despite the fact that he was refusing to look, his pale skin was prickling under the roaming gaze of those widened, chocolate orbs. An audible swallow sounded somewhere above him and then a knuckle was tucked hesitantly under the captain's chin, trying despondently to get a readable reaction out of the genius. "Don't shut me out, I-… I can't help you like this."

The shuddering breath that tore from Hitsugaya's chest made him shake all over, but finally, after what felt like a century of silence, he pulled his hand away from his face and blinked his eyes open. The relief that he saw in his lover's expression was almost too much, too strong to take.

"It's not your fault." The boy managed hoarsely, trying to force his lips to smile reassuringly at the other student. "I'm sorry. I was just-… I was-"

Where was it? His supposed eloquence? His knowledge, his knack to say the right thing? Where had that gone?

His lips stilled in wonder, the inability to come up with a normal response tugging on his heart almost as painfully as Ichigo's eyes were now boring into him. He wanted to say it, but at the same time, he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to explain himself. The words were failing him, crumbling like sand on his tongue, and the fact was making him feel strangely vulnerable The hopeless, unnaturally soft expression must've been enough to gauge, though, because gradually, the carrot-top's features relaxed with understanding, a bit of disappointment crawling up to the edges of his mouth.

"You were thinking of him." The carrot-top stated dully, his head falling forward to bury his face in the crook of the prodigy's neck. "God…"

"It's not what you think." And it sounded so trite. So fake. So wrong… How could he even make it seem otherwise? How could he make this better…?

"It's okay." The carrot-top replied quietly, acceptance and sadness filling that usually firm voice to the brim. "I get it. You really love him."

_Defeat._

Toushiro's heart skipped a bit. And then…

…It wasn't like he had planned it, or thought of it before, or even considered the idea as an abstract, future possibility… But as he turned his head to the side so that his lips were right next to Ichigo's ear, he was surprised to find out how easily and genuinely the words left his mouth:

"I love _you_ more."

His vision shook as Ichigo pulled back so fast it caused the genius jump, that shocked, unreadable expression that had appeared on the carrot-top's face having the boy swallow with difficulty. In one single second, all the blood left Toushiro's face and he shifted uneasily underneath the larger, heavier body, a certain deep, overwhelming apprehension of the mistake he might've just made taking over his whole being.

"You don't have to say it back…" Hitsugaya nearly stammered, cringing at the sound of his own, frail voice. "You don't-"

His sentence was cut short as a pair of lips found his own. And then one single sentence, breathed out against his mouth, filled him up with more warmth than any thorough confession ever would've…

"And what if I want to say it back?"

* * *

_It took him about an hour to find where Toushiro was hiding, the fox's recently-acquired knowledge as to where the boy liked to go helping him out plenty in the situation. At the end of an abandoned playground, away from the noise of the streets, concealed from the eyes of the people and the half-reluctant attempt of the police to discover his location, the kid was sitting curled up against the wall, face buried in his knees and body quaking with the last few exhausted sobs of the incomprehensible agony of the loss. He didn't look up when Gin's steps approached him, didn't show any signs of having noticed the older teenager at all… but when Ichimaru's fingers brushed against his arm, rather than following the source of the caress, Hitsugaya flinched away._

"'_s jus' me, neko…" the words sounded softer and more reassuring than the fox had expected them to, but they produced no result. Toushiro didn't even spare his supposed boyfriend a glance, merely shaking his head and shifting away from the other male as though in some strange attempt to disappear. Scowling slightly at the reaction, Gin kneeled on the ground beside the smaller teen and reached to wrap his digits around the boy's wrist, slowly, carefully, trying to coax the kid face him…_

…_He didn't even remember half the things he said. Just the unusual, velvety texture of his own tone, the understanding that floated along with each word, the effort he had put in getting those turquoise orbs to meet his slit ones… that was all that he could recall. And when he finally succeeded, when the familiar blue-green pools, rimmed with red and swimming in bleary moisture, were no longer hidden away from him, but rather seeking desperately the support and compassion that only he could provide, the uneven susurration that left Toushiro's chapped lips was the only sound that he wanted to hear:_

"_I can't go back there…" the boy whispered brokenly. "I can't go to an orphanage, Gin, please… Don't tell."_

"_I won't, dun worry…" the older student muttered with a sigh, swiftly gathering the boy to his chest and running his fingers through the soft white locks. "Le's go ta mah place, an' then we'll figure somethin' out, okay? "_

* * *

_**A/N: So yeah. Review.**_

_**Ack! And I so forgot! For those of you who enjoy GinHitsu, there's a story named 'Tragedy Thrills Me', you can find it in my favourites. I think the idea is astounding, and I talked to the writer yesterday and she said she would update the fic soon since there were people still interested in it, she just thought no one really followed. :3 SO GO AHEAD AND READ! And comment on that lovely piece of fiction. ^^**  
_


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N: For all of you who want to complain about the slow update - I had exams till this Wednesday. :/ I had no choice but to temporarily abandon writing. I know that summer is coming up and some of you will disappear and leave me upset and miserable... but I still hope you won't, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we all see the end of this story soon. There isn't that much left from it. I'll try making the next few chapters longer. Please, give me nicey reviews, I need positive energy for my exam marks. xD**  
_

_**A little smut in this chapter. I feel so out of shape writing those.  
**_

_**To read the smut, you'll have to go to my LiveJournal account. You'll see the marked place. i've cut the lemon out because I don't want any issues with the site :)  
**_

* * *

_The ocher shades of the late afternoon were already melting into an orange sunset softness when Gin finally dared to leave a rather drowsy and painfully still Toushiro to half-sleep, half-stare dully at the wall from his place on the creaky old bed in the older teen's house. It was an apprehensive and uneasy decision – one that had taken Ichimaru hours to make – and even as he exited the yard and headed down the familiar path towards his work place, he experienced the unrelenting tug of some indefinite emotion that wouldn't stop squeezing his spine and his ribs in its vice-like clutch. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Something really bad. And oddly enough, the fact that he was getting so caught up with this whole story was bothering Gin far more than the issue itself._

_Because Gin had never been one to care much about anyone or anything. It was so easy, really… So damn easy. As long as he could contemplate the world with an elusive, slightly ironic grin on his face, as long as he attained what he wanted from the fools that surrounded him and got by with his meager studying at school, his mind was a clean field. His conscience was practically weightless, useless, untouched. Feeling guilty, concerned or, god forbid, **responsible** for another human being was an unthinkable, laughable notion really. Some might call him heartless, secretly envying the convenient apathy that ruled Ichimaru's demeanor; others could seek for a deeper explanation for his behavior and understanding of the world... But neither eally mattered, because as far at Gin was concerned, his mind was fucked up in the best ways possible. Indeed, he was the epitome of negligence however one looked at it - the heedless son that any parent would resent to have, the inadvertent pupil who spat in the face of the institutions, and the most deliciously selfish lover than any girl could hope to meet. If he so wished, he could truly be the player many claimed him to be, he could become the manipulator, and the villain, and the traitor that every good story needed for the right amount of plot knots and unexpected twists… He had been born a negative character. Born to perform all these vile roles which suited his snake-like gait so well and complimented his face of a liar, the smirk of a knowing little crook and the accent of someone who couldn't be bothered to speak correctly. He liked the gloomy shades that Fate had draped over his figure and the faint waft of trouble that he carried around wherever he went. It gave him a certain style and a specific air of mystery that was both alluring and repulsive – perhaps even necessary - albeit for all the wrong reasons…_

_Ichimaru had never deluded himself that he was a good person._

_He was not one and had never even tried to change. But now this boy had somehow wormed his way into Gin's one-man life, sank his little teeth into the older teen's skin, and out of mystery-guy extraordinaire that the fox praised himself to represent, the thirteen-year-old kid with a messed up family and addiction to drugs had created someone else entirely. All of a sudden Ichimaru couldn't rid himself of this heavy, bittersweet feeling between duty and care that had landed on his shoulders; he was stuck where he was, secretly observing the process of degradation of his once solid beliefs (still in possession of his rebellious brogue, satanic smile and all the other qualities that he prided himself to have) and yet he was no longer the same person. What was more – he didn't want to be the same person. Toushiro had snapped some string inside him, some rusty switch that no one even suspected existed, and Gin's nature had all but cracked beneath its once bulletproof protection. Now the only thing that he could think of was the child he had left behind to go deal with his boss, the person who was probably sobbing quietly in Ichimaru's pillow at the moment, and the strange relationship that was just as much of a mistake as it was a blessing for both of them. As the fox made his way down the familiar roads to the bar where he was working (or maybe wasn't? who knew after his abrupt disappearance today.), he couldn't hold back the gnawing sense of frustration that was chewing up his insides. It was so absurd… so absurd that someone so small and so fragile could be able to wreak so much havoc in Ichimaru's orderly and austere world._

_Yet the evidence was here, wasn't it? And it was troubling Gin with how little sense it really made._

_Who would've thought…_

_Toushiro was a wreck. He boy was a wreck, and a huge, huge problem, and a pathetic scene really, because he was fucking mortified, the way every thirteen-year-old would be in his shoes. He had no one, absolutely no one to go to and the fear that he would be sent away to an orphanage was stronger than anything else that could get through to him. For the past few hours, all that would come out of the kid's mouth were soft, desperate ramblings about what was going to happen to him, something about having nowhere to go, random, senseless things about Grimmjow pressuring him about something and at last what seemed like a completely genuine waterfall of sobs and tears that had no specific meaning. Ichimaru had held the younger teen all through the crisis, the tiny body curled in his lap and against his chest the way children were usually cradled by their parents when upset, and he had shushed and rubbed his hands down Toushiro's back with gentleness that surprised even him. Somehow, intuitively, Gin knew he was supposed to be the strong one of the two, the pillar that the little white-haired student could lean against… The only problem was that the fox had no idea how he would get out of this mess. What he was going to do with the frightened child was still somewhat of a mystery to him…_

_When Gin came out from one of the side streets on the main one that separated the bar where he worked from the building where Toushiro lived, he was not surprised to find a couple of police cars still parked randomly in the space around the edifice. Several serious-looking people were wandering around the place, discussing quietly between each other whatever it was that they found of vital importance, and only the occasional suspicious passerby who paused to stare, made them halt their dialogues for a few moments before hastily resuming the talking as soon as the coast was clear. There were police officers going in and out of the block at a leisurely pace, a few of them chewing sandwiches and drinking coffee even at this late hour, and Gin figured the investigation was still going on full power. At a small town like this, a woman's suicide was probably quite a bit of a scandal and the teen felt almost sorry for the local folk and their mundane little lives. He didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to be stuck in such place for years and years._

_Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Ichimaru quietly walked to the end of the side walk and glanced in one direction and then the other to check for any active traffic. It took him a second to realize how pointless this all was. The neighbourhood was practically deserted. Switching his attention back to the road, he prepared to cross the street and get to the other side, when the sound of a rather agitated voice reached his ears and he paused, glancing over his shoulder to look at who was making the fuss._

**_Huh? What the hell?_**

_Gin frowned, his grin fading a bit as he retrieved his foot from where he had placed it just off the sidewalk, and straightened his shoulders curiously. For a moment his mind strayed off, wondering if he was seeing too much into the simple coincidence that was unraveling before his eyes, but the unusual, stark white hair-colour that was adorning the head of the restless man that now stood in front of Toushiro's house, was indeed rather hard to dismiss. Maybe somewhere in his thirties, the person looked quite lanky, almost unhealthily thin, dressed in neat, yet expensive clothes and sporting a low pony-tail of snowy locks that fell below his shoulders._

_And he was arguing with one of the police officers about something._

_Ichimaru couldn't focus much on the exact words that were coming from the man's mouth, but the stranger looked positively agitated, arms flailing around a lot as he tried to get his point across. Mostly, and judging by what the guy was saying, he was frustrated that the police weren't doing anything meaningful, just wasting their time at the scene of a suicide that obviously was merely that – a suicide – instead of looking for-... For-...  
_

_Somebody.  
_

_Ichimaru's frown relaxed a bit and his lips parted ever so slightly in wonderment. Could it be-… But Toushiro said he had no relatives-_

_No relatives. Not a single one-  
_

…_-that he knew of._

_The fox let out a small, huff-like sound._

_That crazy mother of his… who knew in what kind of a relationship she was with the rest of her family?_

"'_xcuse me," before he had even realized that he had moved, Gin was standing in front of the white-haired man, looking at the guy straight in the eye with his insolent, trademark grin plastered knowingly on his face. "Ya by any chance lookin' fo' Toushiro?"_

_The stranger's eyes widened ever so slightly, restless expression slackening in one of sincere hope as he gazed back at the silver-haired boy before him._

"_Yes." He spoke softly, watching his younger interlocutor intensely. "I'm his uncle"_

* * *

Toushiro bit the pillow under his head sharply, squeezing the soft fabric between his teeth as he tried to keep himself from crying out loud. His thighs trembled in the foretoken of a very much familiar physical overload, making him writhe against the cushions of the sofa, his insides clenching with need around the delicious, yet painfully insufficient, intrusion that was tormenting him. _Oh, God…_ A pair of lips pecked his tailbone tenderly, brushing softly against the heated skin, and the white-haired teen barely held back from whining in response to the nearly non-existent touch. The two fingers that were breaching his ass moved around slowly, brushing against his sweet spot for a second before withdrawing completely, teasing him slowly and mercilessly, with precision that wasn't supposed to belong to someone so inexperienced. It hadn't taken the boy long to realize that whatever Ichigo lacked in skills or knowledge, he made up for with incredible care and enthusiasm, catching up on everything his small partner enjoyed and didn't enjoy and then practically blowing Toushiro's mind with the newly-found information.

* * *

**_You can find the missing scene in my LiveJounral account. The link is in my profile page._**

* * *

"_Fuck!_"

At first, Hitsugaya couldn't understand what had caused the suddenly very displeased curse that came behind him. And then the piercing sound of a mobile phone ringing cut through the milky veil of sexual bliss and the genius frowned, picking himself up to glance at his lover with distaste.

"_Again_, Kurosaki?" he muttered grudgingly and Ichigo groaned, covering his face with his hand for a seconds.

"It's not my fault that Renji can't get the hint that I don't want to talk to him right now!" he groused loudly, reaching awkwardly to retrieve his mobile phone from the table beside the sofa – something that proved to be quite the escapade, considering the carrot-top was trying to accomplish the task without changing their position. As Toushiro watched his lover cancel the call, jade eyes gleaming with annoyance, he couldn't help it but think that for the past few days both of them had truly become one with the piece of furniture beneath them. Maybe they should've gone out more and actually kept contact with the outside world… Maybe they really should've. The no-friends-and-no-calls agreement the two of them had put at the beginning of this weekend might've been with the best of intentions, but perhaps at the end of the day ignoring-

His train of thoughts was cut short as Ichigo pulled almost all the way out before slamming home with enough force to demolish every bit of protest that had been sprouting in the genius' mind. _Fuck, that felt good…_Brushing his momentary worries aside, Toushiro grunted softly and slumped back into his previous position, enjoying the hand that now sneaked between his legs and squeezed his eager cock.

Huh. So maybe he could forget this little slip quite quickly after all.

* * *

_Gin knew something was wrong even before he opened the door and led his guest inside. It wasn't anything particular – a sound, or a smell, or a sign of any kind that could've caused the dull feeling of apprehension inside his stomach. But it was a strike at his rather good intuition nonetheless, and the silver-haired teen knew he wouldn't like what he was about to see. So he walked slowly into the guest house, carefully, like he was maybe trying to draw out the imminent failure that awaited him at the end of this short journey of his… And the cautiousness, the hope he had that he was wrong, it all shattered to pieces as he came into the bedroom and found it completely deserted, the soft wrinkles on the sheets and the familiar, sweet scent of Toushiro's skin the only traces that proved that someone had been here to begin with._

"_What is going on?" Ukiate asked with a tight, strained voice behind him. Ichimaru lifted his hand to press its heel to the side of the door frame. He couldn't understand completely what this cold, numb sensation inside his stomach meant, but something told him that if he spoke right now, if he tried to respond to the question, his voice wouldn't sound right. His tone would be deformed, twisted like a broken blade, like an old, rusty weapon that was brought down to clash into the steel of a younger and stronger one._

_Gin couldn't talk. Couldn't say anything. He needed a few seconds. He needed…_

…_He needed…_

_**One, two, three, four**…_

…_He needed to get his **fear** under control._

…_**five… six… seven…**_

…_**eight…**_

_**Fuck.**_

"_Toushiro, ya foolish kid…" the fox ground out as his fingers curled into a fist against the wooden surfaces that he was leaning on. "What have ya done?"_

_He didn't really need to ask, because he already knew, the memories of the smaller male's ramblings from a couple of hours ago emerging like a silent punishment into Gin's mind. Like a nemesis for his neglectfulness, for the fact that he hadn't paid enough attention and had let this happen…_

_Money. Something about owing somebody money._

_Grimmjow. _

_Gin ground his teeth together, punching the door-frame with his fist and cursing loudly._

_This couldn't be good._

* * *

Monday came grey and rainy, and morose, and Ichigo really didn't want to go to school with the way this day was promising to be. If it hadn't been for Toushiro and his annoying alarm clock (the carrot-top's mobile phone seemed to have died sometime in the middle of the night), he probably would've slept through the first few classes. As it was, the two of them were only about 10minutes late, and in inappropriately little hurry to reach their destinations as they shared a rushed peck on the mouth in front of the gate and then each went their separate way after invading the still and silent school building.

Afterwards, the world entered a blur of movement.

Maybe it was because he was tired after spending most of the previous evening fooling around with his lover, maybe it had to do with the lazy air that he had brought with himself in the classroom, but everything from the first minute he got to class, continued with all kinds of misfortunate events for Ichigo. He ran late for pretty much all of his lessons, managing to slip, or spill his textbooks, or just damn straight lose track of the time in the hallway, and no matter how hard he tried or how vehemently he promised himself he would get his act together for the last few hours in school, he just couldn't do it. He fell asleep during chemistry – thus, effectively getting a lecture from the teacher afterwards and missing his lunch and his only chance to talk with Toushiro - then forgot his backpack in the bathroom on the third floor and ran to get it back, arriving late for literature. Later that day, he messed up his textbooks for the next class and was forced to go to his locker and change them, and while he was mercifully given a few more minutes on the quiz they were having (funny, the textbooks weren't needed after all…), he was disappointed to discover afterwards that he had missed his break. One bad incident after the other, a mistake, terrible luck or just carelessness… and before he knew it, Monday had passed away. And what a Monday it had been! Disheartening? Sure. Stressful? Certainly. But with the string of unpleasant experiences and even more unpleasant surprises, the badly thought-over reactions he showed, the stupid response that had got him in trouble, he ended up more exhausted than after a week of studying.

It was just one of those days, really…

It was only after his last lesson was over that Renji finally caught up with him somewhere in the crowds of leaving people, grasping his arm and making him halt despite his reluctance to spend any more time in the odious building. Ichigo didn't really want to wait – his little white-haired lover had finished earlier and was probably already at home – and he was a bit impatient to get to Toushiro's apartment and just complain and complain about the unfairness of the Mondays… But the frustrated, slightly haunted look that his spotted in the red-head's eyes made him pause, frowning as he turned around to give his friend a curiously raised brow.

"Why the fuck did you not pick up your phone?" Renji barked and Ichigo all but snorted at the unneeded belligerence, his shoulders sagging in defeated irritation.

"I was busy. I just couldn't be bothered helping you out with your homework, man, sometimes you gotta try and do things on your own. Or just, you know, call Ishida or something."

"Homework?" the red-head repeated incredulously, one eye twitching in confusion, but when Ichigo moved to walk away again, he grasped the strawberry's arm and pulled him back, anger beginning to emerge on the almost savagely tattooed face. "This was _not_ about the homework!"

"Really, now?"

"It was important and you just blew me off! I hope it was worth it, man, I really hope so! _Fuck! _" Renji clenched his teeth for a trice, reaching to run a restless hand through his unruly hair as he eyed his friend irritably. "Don't you dare blame me for this, it's all your friggin fault that you wouldn't pick up your stupid phone! You hear me? Don't you dare even try putting this on me!"

"What are you talking about now?" Ichigo asked flatly, unimpressed. Abarai's chest heaved with strain at the question, some inner pressure, some kind of painful apprehension pressing on his ribs from the insides as he spoke up again, this time in a hateful hiss:

"Ichimaru Gin."

The name immediately caught the carrot-top's attention, and his eyes snapped wide open, a vague hint of uncertainty touching his features as he tried to keep his composure in check. This could be nothing. This could be _nothing_. There was no saying… _No_ saying-

"What about him?" Ichigo ground out tensely, his muscles tightening under the this fabric of his uniform shirt as he stared at his friend straight in the eye. "What. About him, Abarai?"

For a moment, Renji looked like he was honestly unsure if he wanted to share what was going on in his head. But then some inner sense of dignity, of compassion maybe, pushed the hesitation away and he nodded his head, exhaling slowly through his mouth…

…In something that resembled defeat a bit too much.

"On the party on Friday… I got-… I got really drunk, Ichigo." The red-head pressed his lips together for a second, then continued quietly. "I don't remember most of it. I don't. But I know Ichimaru was there, and he was asking me things, and… And I think… I think I told him."

"Told him?" the carrot-top repeated croakily, his lungs tightening with the imminent fear, the horror of what this could lead to. "Told him what exactly?"

Renji's face twisted into an expression of almost physically mangling guilt and he pulled his shoulders up, his stance torn between one of defensiveness and helplessness.

"I told him about the bet."

* * *

_**A/N: You know. Positive energy. Reviews... *waves a flag* Look! There's a new button!**_


	21. Chapter 21

**_A/N: I wanted to get this updated on Saturday, but somehow the whole weekend I couldn't find my muse, and now here it is, what came out today. I don't know how well it came out, I'm so tired I can barely see straight. I can feel people are losing interest in the story, and I'll do my best to finish it as soon as possible. If all is good, 2 more chapters and we'll finally witness the end of this monster._**

* * *

Toushiro's home had never felt so far away.

Everything in the world seemed to be hell-bent on slowing Ichigo down that afternoon, and the more things got in his way – missed buses, red traffic lights, people in wheelchairs, etc. – the thicker the inexplicable sense of impending doom loomed over the carrot-top. He passed most of the distance in a sprint, grateful beyond belief that Hitsugaya had been so strict about soccer team practices the last few weeks, but regardless of how hard he pushed himself or how little breath he allowed inside his lungs, it still didn't feel fast enough, it still _frustrated_ him that he couldn't just magically teleport himself to the front of his lover's apartment building. He had tried calling the genius several times already, but the phone rang freely, no one to pick it up from the other end of the line, and the possibility that he was either being ignored or subjected to distrust, set everything in Ichigo into motion. Never, in a million years, had he thought that he would run such a distance, with so much fervor and impetus, when none of his close people's lives were in danger and no natural calamity was mounting the town… In fact, from the non-so-polite squeaks and grumbling that he was detecting from the people he darted by in his rush, he could gauge quite well the impression that he was leaving on the crowds, and on the elderly population in particular.

When he finally reached the building where Toushiro lived, the carrot-top was completely out of breath. His legs felt like towers of jiggery jello, bending and twisting with every step he made, and he cursed aloud, having no other means to vent as he threw a fleeting glare in the direction of the sun that was blazing bright and hot even as it moved towards the seam of the horizon. The abrupt halt wasn't a smart thing to do, Ichigo knew that, but at the moment he literally had no choice in the matter and, supported by his melting, unsteady limbs, he trotted exhaustedly towards the front steps, panting quite harshly through his mouth as he dragged his body forward. The blood that was thumping in his ears was practically rendering him deaf, so he didn't notice the soft screech of the front door when it was pushed open, nearly tripping over his own feet a trice later at the sight of the person who had chosen to exit the edifice at the exact same moment.

Ichimaru's teeth glinted momentary in the fading daylight, surprisingly small and even despite the extent of the creepy grin that the fox projected at every chance given, and the sight made something inside the other student twist and turn uncomfortably. Ichigo half expected a remark of some sort, a mockery or a sneer that would give away at least a hint of what had probably happened inside the building, but instead, the ex-sportsman just nodded with ostensible politeness, stepping aside and holding the door open for the other, still gravely exhausted, teenager to pass through. The carrot-top's face twisted at the sight, uncertainty and confusion making him feel oddly weightless, like he couldn't maybe find the anchor that had previously sealed him to the ground, yet he knew well enough that had no strength and time to waste on this man. If anything, this accidental rendezvous meant one thing – he had been late, and spending any more time on someone who could neither fix, nor explain this mess, was completely and utterly pointless.

The only thing that mattered at the moment was Toushiro. Toushiro's understanding. Toushiro's _forgiveness._ And Ichigo had no intention on delaying any longer the conversation that could either save him or cross out any chances of a good outcome whatsoever.

He could sense Gin's gaze on himself as he walked past the guy and those inhuman slit eyes felt like severing, red-hot scales, cutting into his skin, hard and cruel in their aim to penetrate his body and shred it to pieces from the inside. Every inch of flesh on Ichigo's bones prickled under the odious contemplation, resentment and anger building up like a wave of heat inside the carrot-top for having to deal with someone so base, someone who would do _anything_ to get their way, even if it meant resorting to means as despicable as gossip and half-truthful stories. A part of Ichigo objected it was only _his _own fault that he was standing here, _his_ own mistake and _his_ own stupidity that had landed him in front of Toushiro's apartment building in the first place... Yet it seemed so easy and so right to just pin all this on Ichimaru, to hate the cunning and possessive bastard and everything he had done to mess with the Hitsugaya's life. However… how much right did Ichigo have to decry or justify anyone's deeds,? Wasn't he the same? Hadn't he acted just as low-mindedly and just as thoughtlessly to pass the time and come out as the winner in a bet that brought him _nothing_ real and _nothing_ valuable? _Actually_-… _Actually, we're both the same, aren't we, Ichimaru? _It was shameful to say that the two of them were indirectly fighting over the boy, pulling back and forth as though their prize was some kind of a juice piece of meat, rather than an actual person, but truthfully, that was _exactly_ what they were doing. Playing a pointless game of tug-o-war without care about the character in between, the damage that they were causing or the gravity of the situation. They were both just as bad… And until they figured out how to settle this without hurting Toushiro in the process, neither of them probably deserved to have him…

Sighing, Ichigo forced himself not to look in the other lad's direction, walking past the guy in silence that he was determined not to break even as the softest, almost compassionate whisper reached his ears, twisting his stomach in a knot.

"Ya lost 'im."

The staircase felt like it was spiraling, looping and deforming under his feet as he tottered quietly up its body in search for the right floor and the right apartment that so persistently seemed to evade him. Everything inside him was a mess, every fact, every date, word or question… It was almost as though he was wading through some kind of a sick nightmare, pushing himself forward through his greatest fears, all in hopes that he would wake up stronger and healthier in the morning. Sadly, no waking up occurred. Instead, as he reached his final destination in the form of a tall, dark brown door, he was surprised to discover in himself no desire to ring the bell or knock the door, hand automatically reaching for the handle despite every sense of decency that his family had tried to plant inside his head for the better part of his life.

The hinges practically didn't make a sound as they allowed their load to tilt backwards, welcoming the guest without a hint of modesty, cautiousness, not even curiosity. It made the carrot-top realize that if Gin had visited – which the silver-haired teen had certainly done – Toushiro hadn't got up to see him out of the door. Whether this was a good or a bad thing – Ichigo wasn't sure. But as he quietly continued further inside the flat and along the deserted corridor, he was overwhelmed by a sense of dread that didn't leave him even as he stood on the kitchen's threshold, watching quietly the figure that was sitting behind the table, hands buried in his snowy locks and elbows prompted on the slick wooden surface beneath as he kept his eyes closed and shoulders slumped in defeat. When the carrot-top made no sound to announce his presence, merely watching with tight throat and painfully knitted brows the state of the person he had so recently admitted to loving, he realized that even with all his gusto and all the strain he had put into getting here as fast as possible, he still had no idea how to begin or what to say. Secretly, he had hoped he'd be the first one to get to the boy. Now he didn't have that clean, solid start to take off from, and everything became that much harder. Especially…

"You're still here?"

…Especially with Toushiro's voice shaking like this.

He could clearly hear that the boy was struggling to talk, his words unsteady, breaking and cracking at the ends, at yet Hitsugaya didn't move from his spot, sealed to the chair as though afraid that if he got up, he wouldn't be able to stand on his legs. His fingers – small and fragile in this state – seemed almost as white as his hair, burying deep among the wisps in search for something: alleviation, hope, _anger_… And when Toushiro spoke again, rolling the sounds off his tongue as though they were pebbles that were bouncing off the table in search for somewhere to land their weight, everything inside Ichigo turned upside down.

"Gin, I asked you to go… Just-… please… we'll talk tomorrow." The boy muttered weakly, still refusing to open his eyes as he dug his fingertips in his scalp, applying pressure that could both mean to punish him and ease the pain. "That is enough. I already said you were right… What more do you want?"

Ichigo's heart skipped a beat. He had no idea what Hitsugaya was talking about – what kind of a 'right', what kind of an 'enough' his little lover was referring to – but he had a bad feeling about this. He had barely talked to the fox-faced teenager since the guy had been kicked out of the soccer team, but something told him Gin wasn't stupid. He probably knew Toushiro a lot better than the carrot-top did, and was very much aware of how to poke in the right places and where to apply well-measured pressure to plant doubts and fears… What if this hadn't started just now? What if Hitsugaya's insecurities, his timidity and the general air of distrust that radiated from him didn't just come from his past experiences with relationships? What if Ichimaru had been sowing those parasites of hesitation all along, messing with the kid's head white Ichigo wasn't around? Could it be that? _Could_ it, really?

…How dirty was one willing to play to get back something he'd lost? Was the price ever too high, too much, too unacceptable?

_You know the answer to that one, don't you?_

"It's not Ichimaru." Ichigo muttered. "It's me."

Toushiro didn't react for a moment, remaining as still as a statue even after the words had reached his ears, but then he sat back, withdrawing his arms from the table, and allowed his hands to land limply in his lap. Usually intense emerald gaze fell wanly on the boy's knees, letting him surrender to a tiny trice of weakness, of fright even - because deep inside he probably already knew what would follow – and then he looked up to face the taller male, something akin to a plea reflecting in the way the pair of thin brows had now knitted helplessly in the middle of the kid's face, childish, innocent, _helpless _in their unconscious striving for protection... A layer of unshed moisture was glistering on the surface of those turquoise pools, threatening to spill as the tears grew heavier and harder to restrain the stronger the ache seemed to get, but Hitsugaya was still holding up, crumpling the hem of his shirt between his fingers as he waited for something... Expecting, _searching_ for it the way a drowning man reaches for a wooden shiver. _What_-…The realization hit Ichigo like a bucked of ice-cold water and he made a reeling step inside the kitchen, seeking to lessen the distance between the two of them without scaring the younger student off. He knew that expression. He knew what it meant… And it was shattering his heart to know that Hitsugaya was _begging_ him to say that none of it was true. That everything had been a lie, a scheme that Ichimaru had developed to tear them apart, and that it would all be okay. That they would be fine.

_Oh, God…_

Right now-… Right _now_ Toushiro would believe _anything_ that Ichigo told him. Every beautifully composed lie, every obvious fib, every stupid excuse… It would pass, because the genius was just that desperate to be proven wrong. And if Ichigo chose to use it to his advantage, if he decided to pretend that the bet had never happened, then maybe he would get away with it. Maybe he would never have to worry about finding himself in such situation again.

_But_…

"Please, tell me you didn't." Hitsugaya whispered, choking on his own words, on his own desperation. "Please. You didn't, you wouldn't do something like that."

But he just… He just couldn't do it. He couldn't lean on a lie and pretend everything was fine – this was not the way things worked. Trust had to be earned and admitting your guilt – as costly as it could turn out to be in the end – was the only way to make things right…

"I'm so sorry." Ichigo whispered, making another unsteady step forward. "You have to believe me… I'm so, _so_ damn sorry."

And that was it.

Some kind of a thin, thread-thin wall shattered between them, bringing down the illusion that had probably been Toushiro's only pillar and hope till now. The boy looked away then, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together in a fine white line... His narrow shoulders shook, retaining only for a second more the emotions that were trying to break free from the prison in which he had caged them, and then he doubled over, right hand clutching the edge of the table beside him as the first hot tears rolled heavily down his cheeks. It took a trice before any sound left Hitsugaya's throat, but finally something between a painful sob and a muffled scream tore from his crumbling body, and his free palm shot up to cover his mouth, to lock the rest of the cries in, away from the world and everything that it had done to him. _God, no… _The sight of the younger boy, seeming even smaller and frailer now that the truth had crashed down on him unbidden, made everything inside the carrot-top clenched tight, suffocating him with guilt and helplessness. A part of him wanted to rush to the captain, to offer comfort, to make it all better, but something kept him rooted on spot. Something forbid him this right.

So he watched, like an idiot, at a complete and absolute loss as to what to do, as the person he loved fell apart before his very eyes, destroyed by something that _he_ had done, something that _he_ had said. And the simple, foolish "Don't cry…" felt empty and insignificant as it tumbled from his lips, seemingly aggravating the damage even more instead of fixing anything.

"C-can you go now?" Hitsugaya uttered with difficulty as he lowered his hand from his face and brought his trembling arms around his body instead, not a single trace of aggression painting his voice as he spoke – only defeat. Only agonizing, crushing defeat. "I n-need to be alone for a while…"

Ichigo swallowed, struggling to make his thick tongue work even as his mouth filled with glue and his lips cracked and bled under the effort to let him talk. This wasn't-… This wasn't normal. Yelling, thrashing, anger – _that_ he had been prepared to face – but what he was witnessing now, this _pain_, locked inside, crippled, instead of fueled by the committed injustice: this the carrot-top had no idea how to deal with.

"I can-… I can explain." He managed finally, and the tiny scoff that followed his statement literally sliced through his heart.

"No, it's okay. I get it. You don't have to say anything." The boy muttered, reaching to try and wipe away some of the tears, but they just kept coming, clogging his lungs with their salt and bitterness. "I've been-… I've just been so stupid."

"No… No, don't say that. _God_, I should've-… It's not what you _think_." Ichigo insisted desperately, shaking his head as he urged his mind to work with him. "Please, I know how it looks-"

"How? How does it look?" Toushiro challenged through another soft hiccup, fingers digging in his sides as he continued. "Did you or did you not make a bet that you could get me to go out with you and then fuck me? Because that what I've been told. That's what I _know_."

_Fuck,_ did it really sound so ugly? Was it really _that_ disgusting, _that _vile?

"I-I… Yes, but-"

"There is no 'but' in this, don't you get it?" Toushiro rasped brokenly, shaking his head as though he couldn't believe he needed to explain himself. "What kind of a person-… Who would actually _do_ that? _God_, and coming to think that-… That I _told_ you-" covering his eyes with his palms, the boy tried to fight down another series of sobs, his whole body shaking as the disappointment and desperation rolled off of him in waves. "I can't believe this… I can't believe that I trusted you. So. Damn. Much."

"But I love you. I _do_ love you, I meant what I said!"

"No." Toushiro ground out suddenly. "_No_. You did _not_ say it. I did, and you went along with it."

"That's not-… Toushiro, _please_, I know what you're thinking, but I promise you-"

"The hell with your promises, I don't need more lies. I'm _done _with this. Gin was right. Gin was right all along."

At that point Ichigo couldn't take it anymore and swiftly crossed the room, kneeling in front of the boy's chair and grasping the thin little wrists to try and pry Toushiro's hands from his face.

"Do you honestly believe this? Do you honestly think that all this time, I've been _pretending_ to care about you? Don't you know me? Don't you know _yourself_?" the carrot-top insisted fervently, growing progressively more and more frightened when even after getting a clear view of his lover's face, he still couldn't make the boy look at him. The tiny white palms, brought back down to the kid's lap and held there against their will, lay against Hitsugaya's thighs lax and irresponsive, failing to react to any caresses and kisses that the carrot-top would shower the skin in, no matter how hard Ichigo tried to show his affection or how ardently he whispered his words for the other one to hear. "You _have_ to believe me, please, it might've started that way, it might've come from the wrong motivation, but things _changed_. Goddammit, can't you see that I fell for you!"

Toushiro was shaking his head now, eyes tightly closed as he battled his own body, his own tears. It seemed like every word was hurting him, every sound was crushing him even _more_, and Ichigo found himself at complete loss as to what to do. This couldn't be it. He wouldn't let things end like this. He-

"Don't you understand," Hitsugaya muttered forlornly. "How cruel it is. Regardless of the result, you did this. You _did_ this to someone you didn't even know. And for what? For a couple of bucks and the triumph of banging someone who's name is a little more known that your own?" features twisting painfully, he bit on his lower lip hard, jaw trembling as he tried to get the next words out a bit more clearly. "Was I really that cheap to you, that disposable?"

_Dammit, how can you even think that? _

The carrot-top's throat throbbed with the words and wails that wanted to come out, but for some reason nothing seemed good enough, nothing made enough sense… For the first time since they'd met, he could see absolutely everything in Toushiro's face - every emotion, every scar, every crushed dream – and it startled him to realize just how _used_, ashamed and insignificant this stupid story was making the boy feel. Like it was his fault somehow that he had believed it was real – not Ichigo's – but his own.

"I made a mistake. I made an honest mistake. Why can't you see, " the older student forced out, voice rising with something that horribly resembled panic. "Why don't you get just how much you mean to me?"

"If you cared about me, you'd just leave." Toushiro hissed suddenly, tearing himself from the other one's hold and raising to his feet. He turned to face away from the carrot-top and pressed his knuckles to his lips, voice a little sharper now as he spoke quietly. "If you cared, you'd understand and go. I can't do this anymore. It was hard enough hearing it from Gin, I can't chew on the same garbage all over again."

"Toushiro."

"No. No, I can't take this. Please, just leave me alone, I can't- I can't _think_." The boy shook his head, stumbling forward towards the window in search for some kind of a mild escape. "I don't need _either_ of you two right now. And I honestly-… I don't know why you don't seem to get it."

_I don't need either of you two._

Ichigo closed his eyes for a second, a dull kind of sadness spreading through the center of his chest. Then he picked himself up, glanced at Toushiro one last time, and decided that the least he could do now was have decency to leave.

Ichimaru and he had done enough.

* * *

Hitsugaya couldn't be bothered to turn on the lights, and so the living-room was completely dark now, safe for the TV that was working with almost no volume in the center of this suddenly rather gloomy place. If he dared to glance at his watch, he'd probably be surprised to find out he'd been lying on the sofa for hours now, but he just had no strength left to think about wasted time. He had run out of tears what felt like centuries ago, and all that remained was the distant pulse of something both painful and regretfully nostalgic that was spreading its toxins all over his body.

His mobile phone was abandoned on the floor beside the couch, long ago muted due to the headache that the constant ringing was causing him, and Toushiro wondered if he should even take the little fucker with him tomorrow. Seemed like the only thing these devices did was bringing bad news and annoying the hell out of everyone.

In the numb daze that he had lapsed, he could barely register what he was doing, but at some point his mind caught up with the rest of him and he realized his fingertips were running along the burn marks on the inner side his right forearm, grazing the defective skin in an absent-minded caress that he couldn't recall ever indulging himself into before. He scoffed to no one in particular, turning his head to the side as the soft sound of the late evening news starting up leaked from the television, having a surprisingly relaxing effect on the boy.

Back when he was younger, he used to hate those same late evening news. His mother always watched them, which meant she was always up at this hour, and if she had somehow fallen asleep and missed to hear about whatever disasters had recently occurred, she was exceptionally crabby afterwards, ready to throw offences in her son's direction and pour booze down her throat as he carefully sneaked around the house, collecting empty bottles, strewn kitchen utensils and swiping miserably the broken shards of his very last teacup and the little saucer that went with it. He never said it out loud, but sometimes it was the small things that upset him the most – finding his room trashed beyond recognition, or having her tear up the last good shirt that he had, or just discovering the remains of the milk he had bought the previous day spilt all over the floor as though real food, real nourishments were worthless crap in comparison to the beloved doze of whiskey or vodka… Every once in a while, when it got too much, when he couldn't handle it any longer, he would cry for hours over such tiny, petty things. Material proofs of some erstwhile care that lay broken and scattered in his feet, reminding him once again how irreversibly his only relative was slipping down the abyss of her own destruction. The last few years all she did was hurt him – in whatever way shape or form she managed to do that – and more than once he would wish she would either kill herself, him, or both. Because apparently they couldn't sustain anything even remotely normal when they lived together under the same roof, with their parenting roles reversed and the lack of money constantly pressuring them to pay rent, pay the bills, pay for food, pay for Mrs. Hitsugaya's disgustingly expensive alcohol addiction…

So…

He supposed it was honestly, really, really shocking for him… To discover himself shattered to such an extent when she finally did muster the strength to end her own life and relieve him from the weight that he had been carrying around like a dog for so long now. He figured part of the grief came from the memory he still cherished of her – back when she hadn't been so bad. When she had actually bothered to apologize after hitting him. But truth was, he was just so scared, lost in the endless arms of this enormous world, that the perspective of being sent to an orphanage and losing every tiny bit of normality that he still clung to, mortified him to extremities where he could hardly think about anything else. He felt small, confused, insignificant - the parentless kid that nobody would bother to look for – and the possibility of the police getting a hold of him was terrifying him beyond belief… In this situation, the only two people that he could think of, the only ones that were left, who he could actually trust, were Ichimaru and Grimmjow…

And that was definitely not much of an army to face reality with.

Being discovered by Gin was probably the luckiest and at the same time, the _worst_ thing that could happen to him after he ran away from his own apartment. Letting himself go in the familiar pair of arms, allowing everything to just pour out of him, all the anguish, all the pain and desperation – it was a luxury that he couldn't resist, but which secretly tore him apart every second that he spent with the silver-haired teenager. He knew Ichimaru couldn't help him – he was a kid after all, just like Toushiro - and relying on the older student, burdening him with the mess that the shorter boy himself had been struggling to put into order for so long – it just wasn't fair. And so the moment he saw his opening, minutes after Gin had foolishly left him alone, Hitsugaya found his way back to the streets, this time with a purpose and aim in mind rather than a vague striving to escape his future.

Grimmjow was a wrong choice in so many ways and on so many levels, that some would say the kid was better off on his own than looking for the cobalt-haired lad's help. Problem was, this wasn't just about today, or about this week, or about this month even… With the less time that Toushiro spent with his eccentric old buddy and his ever-changing company of pot-addicts, there were much fewer things he could do to 'pay' back for the weed he was buying, so naturally, his debts to the young drug dealer were building up along with the cravings that always came full-power when the jade-eyed kid was stressed out. No matter what the boy decided to do with his life from now on, regardless of the direction he picked to follow, he couldn't do it with the knowledge that he hadn't returned the money he owed. True, he didn't have the cash now (and the older teenager most probably knew it) but while Grimmjow could be incredibly crude and tactless when it came to most things, he had his creative ways to handle financial difficulties… Which most probably meant that Hitsugaya would be swamped with paperwork for the next couple of days, doing the job that the older teen was meant to fulfill for his dad, and eventually, after he worked off everything that he owed, he could think about the rest of his problems and their supposed solutions. It was his only option, really. And besides, he would need some place to stay at least for a little while, which meant that if he wasn't fond of the idea of sleeping in a cardboard box till the coast was clear and he could actually collect the little possessions that he had from his flat, he would need assistance. Maybe when his head cleared out and the world didn't seem so messed up and hopeless anymore, he would figure something out; he was a survivor after all – he had gone through too much, he'd get through this, too…

Of course, those were quite naïve thoughts for someone who would later be declared a child prodigy, and looking back at what happened, Toushiro had to admit he had made the worst choices possible. Grimmjow was spoiled, short-tempered and had a huge ego that seemed to grow larger and larger the longer he kept living the way he did. The past couple of weeks all that Hitsugaya had done was try and avoid contact with the older guy, slowly pulling away from the drugs, the alcohol and the suffocating grip that the other lad had around his slim throat. And what he was doing now - showing up on the entrance of the club that his 'friend' was taking care of – was undoubtedly, _absolutely_, one of the stupidest things the boy had ever done. Till this moment, when he thought back to the events from that night, the genius got chills running down his spine, wondering what the outcome could've been if things had gone _just_ a little bit differently…

Grimmjow had met him with arms wide open, chasing away the group of junkies that had gathered around him, and taking the boy to the second floor to a more secluded office-like room, where they could actually talk. The guy smelled a bit of vodka and lemons – probably some kind of a cocktail that Toushiro hadn't tasted before - but he insisted he hadn't had much to drink and would like to listen to whatever the issue was, because, well, Snowy-chan looked positively upset… Ignoring the nickname, which he honestly didn't fancy, Hitsugaya had just nodded his head and went along with the explanation, deciding he didn't want to be the one questioning anyone tonight... His head hurt too much, his mind was too blank, and all he needed right now was to find someone he could trust and lean on… Maybe Grimm could be that person, if given the chance, and truthfully – the kid didn't have that many options to pick from – so he followed the club's 'owner' in the chosen direction, forgetting for a moment just how aggressive and cruel the taller guy could really get when his precious ego was bruised.

Afterwards…

Afterwards Toushiro remembered explaining his predicament to the older teen, accompanying his story with stiff hand gestures and an enormous effort not to burst into tears again while the azure eyes of the other bloke watched him carefully, silence and something else that the white-haired kid couldn't quite pinpoint floating around in the air between them. When the story was finally over, Grimmjow remained quiet for a couple of seconds, merely watching the smaller male with slightly darkened, yet unreadable blue gaze, and then, before the boy could actually fathom what was happening, he was being pulled in a surprisingly tight embrace, the soft promise for help ringing in Hitsugaya's ear like some heaven-sent melody. In that moment - for a single particle of the second that tasted both sweet and sour with the waft of hope that it carried - the kid almost dared to believe that everything would be alright. That maybe, just maybe, he would drag himself out of this living hell in which he had fallen and remember to dream, to pray for miracles...

_How_-

How truly, truly gullible he had been.

Toushiro could still vividly recall the scent of that tea… thick, bitter, yet with an odd tinge of something that was typical for medications. He asked what it is and Grimmjow told him it was a certain new herb he got recently, a plant like weed, but now quite, that would help him relax for now. _Yes_… parents always tell you when you're a little not to accept treats from strangers, for you never know what could be hiding in the cup of lemonade or the delicious piece of cake you've been given… But Grimmjow was not a stranger, not a lewdly grinning old man, peeking from the window of his black shiny car, he was someone the boy had known for years now. And in the state in which Toushiro was at the moment – lost between nightmare and reality - he couldn't quite bear thinking that there was someone left out there that would want to harm him. A single drop of distrust more, a hair of hesitation, and the load would break his spine. The truth would crush him irreversibly.

So he sipped his drink, appeased when he quickly started feeling the tranquilizing effect it had on his wasted, aching body. And then…

…Then it got too much.

The empty cup dropped from his lax fingers, tumbling to the floor with a dull thud that echoed in his head as the still whole cup rolled a few inches along the fleecy beige carpet. The colours were everywhere before his eyes: bubbles of swimming blue, shimmering red, pink, violet, nacreous white and marvelous green… Wave after wave of something warm and tender washed over him, making his body accepting and pliant, like it was maybe floating on a cloud instead of sitting in some cheap, unkempt room on the second floor of a second-class club… So he almost didn't register Grimmjow's hand as it pushed him from his sitting position on the sofa and coaxed him to lie on his back instead, Toushiro's right foot still on the floor while his other leg remained up on the delectably soft piece of furniture. The words that were coming from the cobalt-haired teen's mouth were very vague, torn, loud, yet quiet, everything altogether, but the boy half-heartedly detected anger in those sounds, annoyance… And somewhere among the noise, Gin's name, too, appeared, uttered with disgust and what could've been considered jealousy …

"_Why do I act all patient and carin', looking out for you all the fuckin' time if ya're gonna put out for the first guy that shows up on your doorstep, huh?"_

Maybe it was the accusations that brought some of his consciousness back, maybe the drug just hadn't knocked him out completely, but when Grimmjow's lips found his neck, biting and sucking, while his large, rough hands worked on pretty much tearing the shirt off of Toushiro's torso, the boy started to move. He tried to say no, he tried to push the guy off of him, but truthfully, he couldn't even feel properly frightened. It was all like some kind of a dream, a raving, torn from a sick person's lips, and it was both peculiarly distant, surreal somehow, and so damn hard to believe that his mind simply _refused_ to fathom the situation… The dull burn in his stomach told Hitsugaya he didn't want this, that this wasn't okay, or normal, or acceptable, but it was just _so_ hard to focus and even harder to resist. The other teen didn't even have to pin the small pale hands down, the kid was _that_ weak, barely nudging at the broad shoulders as the older lad raked his dull fingernails down the kid's sides beneath the clothing, leaving soft red trails along the tender skin.

Then as those hands traveled lower, fumbling with Toushiro's belt and the slightly oversized jeans, it started to get scary. Some clouded part of his mind protested, startled by what was happening, and he struggled to pull away from the touch, to get Grimmjow to understand that this wasn't okay. Oddly enough, the blue-haired guy didn't seem to care, manhandling his supposed friend with harsh, slightly aggressive movements, while the boy chanted a weak, now verging with desperation 'stop' and tried to wriggle out of the unrelenting fingers. It was all to no use. The drug, however easily it could drag him into a beautiful, liberating euphoria, had now turned into a dreadful prison, locking his mind away from his own body and granting him useless no matter how much he fought against the restraints of the tea. Toushiro was practically helpless – a rag doll, that had been tossed around too much, pulled and battered too hard and for too long – and with the loud disco music blaring downstairs and muffling any miserable cries, Hitsugaya didn't stand a chance.

He had almost given up when it happened… At that moment, as Grimmjow was proceeding to pull the smaller male's jeans off of him, the door burst open and someone rushed inside, catching both occupants of the room off guard. And what occurred next was truly an ugly, atrocious picture.

Toushiro didn't think he had ever seen Gin so angry. Most of it was really just a big blur, but he recalled the baseball bat as it collided with the back of Grimmjow's head, and then some of the other hits as Ichimaru dragged the offender off the sofa and onto the floor. Most of the beating was really unnecessary and Hitsugaya tried to tell the silver-haired guy so, but his mouth wouldn't work with him and the shock of what had just happened was too much to swallow at one gulp. When Gin made sure the guy at his feet wouldn't be getting up any time soon, he turned his attention to Toushiro, finding himself before the boy in a heartbeat. It was one of the rarest and strangest sights, really, and the teen would never forget the feeling of being pulled against his larger body, long, pale fingers stroking the thick white locks as Ichimaru scolded him mildly for running away.

The rest was a surprisingly bright ending.

Grimmjow got arrested and taken to juvie for several things, including drug-selling, vandalism and attempted rape, and Toushiro never heard of him again. Not that he cared much, because for the first time in his life, he discovered that he actually had living relatives – people who were willing to give him a chance regardless of all the shit he had done and the stuff he had been forced to go through. His mother had hidden more than one secret from him, and for the news he had stumbled upon in the face of his gentle uncle, the boy was not surprised… Mrs. Hitsugaya had always had an interesting way to handle situations and after her whole family had stood against Toushiro's dad – the guy who had incidentally left her with an infant on her hands just a few years after they married – she had just decided to cut them all out of their life. Just for the sake of keeping appearance.

And then it turned out that Ukitake lived in Karakura and life couldn't be more perfect. It could've been his happy ending, really, Toushiro thought regretfully, pulling his sleeve back over his scarred forearm. It really could've been…

Now he was knee-deep in a mess that he had no idea how to handle and the only thing that came to mind was just how much he wanted both Gin and Ichigo out of his life. It was probably the wisest thing to do, considering the idiotic situation, but of course… he had made a promise. He had made a deal with Ichimaru.

_God_, integrity… What a useless, useless thing.

_Click._

Toushiro didn't react for a second at the peculiar sound that came from the other end of the apartment, features twisting in surprise and confusion, and then he shot up in the sofa, anxiety coursing through his body as he realized something incredibly obvious.

He had forgotten to lock the door after Ichigo left.

Slipping off the couch, the boy scrambled peeked cautiously over the back of the furniture and then scrambled to get the phone that he had left on the floor near his head, only to accidentally kick the device.

"_Shit!"_

Falling on his knees, he peered under the sofa, searching for where the little machine had disappear, but without any light in the room, the task proved to be much harder than expected. Before he could slip his hand between the floor and the furniture, the sound of steps made his head snap up, eyes growing wide at the dark figure that stood on the threshold of the living room.

"I was gonna ring the bell, but the door was opened."

* * *

The empty locker room smelled of sweat, dust and rubber, even stuffier and dirtier than usual by the time the day's brightness tumbled to an end. The echo from the laughters and shouts that had filled the place an hour or so ago had long died away, yet Ichigo still seemed to feel the vibrations of those noises in the ground beneath his feet, the benches, the cupboards, even the walls that surrounded him singing that tune as he made his way through the place with one hand rubbing a towel in his damp hair. Teeth around his lower lip and skin still radiating heat from the extra running and the hot shower he had taken afterwards, he looked positively unnatural the way he was currently staring oh-so-intently at the bright screen of his mobile phone and running through the chronology of his last calls. More than two dozen repetitions of Toushiro's name flitted before his eyes as he scrolled down, only vaguely registering the hours, minutes and seconds that floated next to each failed attempt for communication. He had sent a couple of text messages to the now painfully familiar number, laconically asking to be given at least a chance to explain himself again, but all such pleadings seemed to lead to was a momentary sense of frustration which almost blissfully took over the dull despair that had been such a constant guest in his heart ever since he spoke to Hitsugaya about the bet.

The genius hadn't shown up in school for two whole days now, remaining seemingly miles away from the mundane life of Karakura high's students, and in that way saving himself from the petty gossip and arguments that would undoubtedly pull him in if he so much as spoke to a classmate. Maybe it was a strategy of some sort, a plan to allow the tension to fade before he dared to return to the battlefield of his usual life, but regardless of the reason, Ichigo felt somehow cheated. The kid had even missed soccer practice today, leaving the team to tend for itself and suffer the lack of a good and organized leader, and the fact had definitely confused the majority of the players, as most of them had never attended a practice without their beloved captain before. From the looks of it neither Renji, nor Ichimaru had said anything about what had happened to Monday, but the red-head seemed positively distressed, asking about Toushiro whenever he caught Ichigo alone in some empty classroom or a deserted corridor, and offering advice that was neither applicable, nor wanted. Perhaps it was still the guilt talking, the carrot-top assumed as he placed his phone in his locker and proceeded to pull his clothes out, but guilt really didn't help much. Besides, no matter what his friend thought about this situation, it was still Ichigo's fault, all that had happened… He just needed to figure out how to fix things. How to make this whole mess go away for good.

"Easier said than done…" the orange-haired teen muttered with a sigh, pulling his pants on and then proceeding to don his school shirt as well. It took him a minute to get his things packed and leave the locker room, his fingers massaging the back of his head as he tried to rub the stress out of his scalp and bring some sort of alleviation for his wasted nerves. He barely registered where he was heading, his legs carrying him on their own as he made his way through the school and towards the main entrance.

Most of the building was eerie empty, really. There was no one around except the janitors that looked half asleep and the obese man with a walkie-talkie who was supposedly one of the guards, responsible for the safety of the enormous institution. The rest of the usual hustle and bustle had drained from the place hours ago, leaving it large and insignificant, a mere composition of large boxes with the names of offices and classrooms, which would look just as crowded and buzzing with life the next day… if only Ichigo could survive till then.

Deciding that he would walk the rest of his was back home, the carrot-top descended the front steps that led him out in the open and marched across the yard, barely managing to make it out of the school property before a rough hand grabbed the front of his shirt and smashed his back against the fence. The carrot-top's blurred for a moment, the shock of what had happened catching him off guard, but then Ichimaru's face came into focus and the shorter student didn't even try to bite back a groan of annoyance.

"What the hell do _you_ want?" Ichigo spat out, shoving angrily at the other guy's chest, only to be pushed back against the fence with doubled force.

"Ya're a complete moron, aren't ya?" the foxy teen hissed, grin completely wiped out of his lips as he shook the orange-haired lad a little. "What did ya say ta Toushiro the other day? What the fuck did ya _do_?"

"What did _I_ do?" the carrot-top ground out in disbelief, mind going momentary blank as he grasped the front of Ichimaru's shirt and balled it in his fist. For anyone who passed by at that moment, the two would look positively ridiculous, literally at each other's throats as the passive hostility finally began bubbling in something real, something that wasn't resolved with words or thoughts… But with his temper threatening to burst at the seams and the idea of being accused of anything stinging so bad, Ichigo just couldn't bother to think about decency. Being good and polite didn't count for anything anymore. "You were the one who readily broke his heart to get your way. If you really cared about him, you'd _know_ some things are better left untold."

"Ya're no good fo' 'im!"

"And what? You are? _Please_." Ichigo snorted in disgust, shaking his head as he narrowed his eyes at Gin. Unconsciously, he took into account the way the sharp features hardened even more at those words, creating a nearly stony mask on the face that would've been so appealing, so _handsome_-… If only it had been allowed to open up a little more.

The silver-haired guy didn't answer immediately, just glaring through those snake-like slits at his rival, and then he let go of the shorter bloke and pushed himself away, lips pressing together in a thin, tight line. For a split second – a moment so short, Ichigo actually doubted its existence – the carrot-top saw an expression of bitter anger and regret flitting in the barely noticeable gleam of red that peeked beneath the eyelids, the half-concealed emotion denoting for the first time something human, something real, yet impossible to fix that had probably tortured Gin just as much as it repelled everybody else.

"At least I didn' lie ta 'im about bein' any better." Ichimaru stated flatly, fists opening with effort by his sides as he struggled to remain calm. "I neva' promised 'im it would be easy, or normal, or even beautiful enough. I've got mah flaws, I always have, but _you_! Ya gave 'im all those wonderful things he always dreamt he'd have, an' then ya took it away from 'im, because ya proved it had neva been real."

"That's not true and you know it, you bastard!" Ichigo snapped as he pushed himself away from the fence. "This is all about your obsession to have him all for yourself. _Nothing_ else. I bet deep inside you don't even believe he'll come back to you, you just can't stand the thought that he might be happy with someone else!"

Momentarily, he saw Gin's jaw tighten, a furious, rather dangerous look twisting those features the way primal instincts to hurt always came to animals, but then he managed to relax again, inhaling harshly through his nose as he added quietly.

"I dun care what ya think. I jus' have ta kno' what ya told 'im. Because _this_ ain't Toushiro. Toushiro wouldn't have missed school. In fact, he'd come if _only_ ta prove he could handle this. He wouldn' miss practice. He wouldn' let the world see how much he's hurtin'."

The conviction in the other lad's voice made Ichigo pause for a second, a cold, benumbing feeling running down his spine as he held Ichimaru's gaze with his own slightly incredulous one and snorted.

"And you think you know him that well?"

"I _know_ I know him that well." Came the sharp, yet surprisingly coherent retort and then Gin shook his head, clearly irritated. "Ya're useless. I was hopin' ya had some answers, but I suppose I'll have ta go check fo' mahself. Have fun bein' you, it must be hilarious."

With that Gin turned around on his heel and started making his way across the street, his hand diving in his jeans' pocket to fish out a bunch of keys. Ichigo stood there for a moment, contemplating the other guy as he made his way towards an old dark blue car parked in one of the streets…

Ichimaru was going to Toushiro's apartment.

And suddenly, the carrot-top decided he needed to go there, too.

* * *

**_Review._**

**_The new review button is terrible, so I use notepad to type and then just copy and paste it in the review window. And if you have accounts, don't forget to log in. Too many 'anonymous' reviews these days.  
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	22. Chapter 22

**_A/N: Okay, so I think there are two or maybe even one chapter to go with this story. I have to admit, I'm having trouble writing it these days. It's an over 3-year-old plot and it feels kindda plain now, and holey, but I don't want to leave the fic unfinished, so I'll do everything in my power to complete it. Don't criticize. The poor story is hanging on a thread as it is. Nice, sweet words can do wonders, so shower me with that._**

* * *

If he wasn't so irritated, if he could sober up from the bitter inebriation of this whole mess and see everything through clear, objective eyes, if he could just stop for a second and_ think_, Ichigo would realize just how ridiculous they were both acting, fighting for something that wasn't theirs to refuse to share.

His taxi stopped to the side of Toushiro's street perhaps a minute after Ichimaru had parked in an empty space nearby, and he shoved the hastily crumpled banknotes in the driver's awaiting palm with the impatience of a student, who was running late for a test he already knew he would fail. What sort of peculiar decency had him speed walking instead of sprinting towards the block's entrance, Ichigo wasn't sure, but he quite literally heard his teeth grit at the sight of the other teen sneaking fluently inside the building and pulling the door shut behind himself. This wasn't a competition, the carrot-top tried to tell himself, they were not racing for some prize, some nameless, emotionless trophy who didn't get a say in anything - the first to get to Toushiro would not be the winner. He needed to be reasonable now, to act his age and stop tugging and kicking, when the most obvious decision was to let go and allow his opponent to stumble to the ground.

He could do this.

He could do the right thing.

Except with Ichimaru's tall figure already gone from his sight, it was more than a little difficult to fulfill any sensible resolutions. The seconds before he found himself in front of Toushiro's flat were a haze, and so the carrot-top hardly noticed the fact that the door was wide open and there was pretty much no sound coming from inside. He slipped into the abode and hastily made his way down the corridor, emerging a few moments later in the living room, where his rival now stood, an odd kind of stillness gripping his long frame. At first, Ichigo couldn't quite comprehend what had made the guy stop – there didn't seem to be anyone in the near vicinity who could've ordered him to do so – but then he caught a sight of what the fox was holding in his hand, and just like that, the world became a frozen, colourless background that refused to make any sense whatsoever.

…Because there was no way in hell that this thing in Ichimaru's hand, with the 39 missed calls blinking grumpily on the screen, could be Toushiro's mobile phone…

A long, powerful wave of cold washed over Ichigo's body, quickly replaced by milliards of tiny, vicious needles that stung and prodded his skin as though in search of a way to wake him up from his stupor. Momentary, he saw Ichimaru's fingers shake around the device they held before clenching tighter, clinging to it like dear life.

"There's no one in the flat," the fox muttered, more to himself than to the other male as he kept staring with tight lips and furrowed brows the object he had found. "This can't be good."

Breaking through from the paralysis, the carrot-top snapped his head towards the taller guy, watching anxiously as Ichimaru carefully made his way further inside the room, his slit eyes examining the surroundings without him ever reaching out to touch anything. The whole procedure was making Ichigo oddly helpless, bound between a hammer and a hard place as he became increasingly more aware of the fact that he was missing out on something. His mind wanted to ask but his pride wouldn't let him, and so after another minute of just standing stupidly in the middle of the room, he made a hesitant step forward, pausing in surprise when something crinkled under his foot. Ichimaru's head immediately turned towards the sound, a look full of contempt falling on the carrot-top, but Ichigo hardly noticed, his own gaze fixed on what he had stepped on.

_A glass pad?_

"What do ya think ya're doin', ya moron?"

Conveniently ignoring the unfriendly hiss, the shorter teen bent down to pick up his discovery. It felt soft and familiar under his fingertips, the little crease caused by Ichigo's boot hardly visible once he straightened the cardboard up. Toushiro was obsessed with these things, always pedantically putting them under cups and glasses so as to prevent them from leaving circles on the tables. The carrot-top had always found it funny how someone could be this hell-bent on keeping things slick and tidy… but now the only feeling that this stupid carton pad succeeded in summoning inside his chest was a bittersweet tightness that reminded him of the chance he had missed.

And then…

"Someone must've come here," he found himself croaking out, staring with a renewed clarity at the object on his palm for a long minute before glancing at the glass which still stood proudly on the low table beside his leg, vacant and untouched, as though it had never ever contained anything to begin with. "And then they probably arranged things so it wouldn't look like there's been a break in. I don't think," he swallowed, a trembling, humourless smile trying to fight its way to the surface as he turned the glass pad back and forth between his fingers. "I don't think Toushiro would've been this careless."

He knew he didn't have to explain any further as Ichimaru's gaze fell on the cardboard circle, a tiny stipe of red peeking underneath the pale eyelids as he contemplated the meager evidence that was being put forth. Ichigo could almost hear as the wheels and bolts clicked contently in all the right places in the taller teen's head and then, without so much as a nod of acknowledgement, the fox turned around and brushed past the carrot-top and out of the apartment.

The action left Ichigo standing stupidly for about ten seconds, half-expecting to hear a shout, or a curse of some sort, or just _anything_ that could give him the vaguest idea of what the fox was up to. Instead, he got nothing but the echo of the hurriedly retrieving steps and the sound of the deserted abode, now completely, overwhelmingly empty. With an exasperated sigh, the carrot-top turned around on his heel and pretty much ran out of the door, a slightly frustrated grimace twisting his face as he sprinted after the very man he least wanted to talk to at the moment.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

He hadn't really expected an outright response from Ichimaru, but it still annoyed the hell out of him when his call was demonstratively ignored and he had to skip a few steps down the staircase to make up for the other teen's initial lead. _Damn you, you stupid jerk! _He nearly tripped down in his rush, threatening to add a cracked skull to the list of problems that he seemed to have growing with every passing hour but by some strange miracle he still managed to catch up with Ichimaru just outside the block.

"Jesus, would you stop for a second!" Ichigo snapped, surprising both himself and Gin when he reached out and grasped the taller student's shoulder to make him halt. "We should go back there and call _the police_."

He saw a momentary hint of confusion flit across the other guy's face and then Ichimaru's teeth flashed, baring themselves as he shook off the carrot-top's hand and stepped forward, aggressively invading Ichigo's personal space.

"Well, go on then an' call the police if ya want to," he challenged in a gravely low voice, but although his fists were clenched by his sides and he looked like he was about to pounce, for the first time since he had met the fox, Ichigo felt that this kind of hostility simply appeared on the surface to conceal something else. Something deeper and more intense than a simple desire to get into a fight and ultimately prevail. "I'm not wastin' mah time with these idiots. A 16-year-old needs ta be gone fo' 24h ta be reported missin' an' for them to react faster; there needs ta be evidence of violence or something else showin' he's in danger. Toushiro's over that age limit, an' there're no traces of anyone eva breakin' inta his flat… If we start the clock now, by the end of those 24-hours there's no sayin' what'll have happened ta Toushiro."

"We'll explain to them," Ichigo insisted, hating how desperate he sounded, how desperate he felt of a sudden. "We'll say-"

"What? That we made 'im so angry he didn' realize there was someone in the house till it was too late? Is that what ya're suggestin?" Ichimaru let out a soft snort, glancing resentfully over his shoulder before he stepped back, half-way turning towards the road and the truck that rested peacefully just across the street. "They'd think he jus' needed a break after what we put 'im though an' went out ta some friend's place, leavin' his phone behind so we wouldn' be able ta reach him."

Ichigo felt his heart tighten painfully at those words, guilt and frustration filling up his lungs like salty water, till he was almost drowning, almost _fucking_ drowning in the knowledge of what he had done. What _they _– he corrected himself after a couple of seconds - had ultimately done together. It didn't matter in whose directions the scales weighted down more heavily or how much of their deed they saw as something necessary or something simply wrong. They had both contributed to the result and now that there was no one to pull a façade for, Ichigo could see that Gin was going through something at least vaguely similar, if perhaps a bit more jagged around the edges, an emotion rough and unpolished like a masterpiece that would never raise to its full greatness. The taller teen was covering up his feelings better that the strawberry, though, pushing them aside and replacing them with irritation and impatience, the way he probably always had, even when at his happiest. And then there was also a hint of panic in the slit eyes, in the tight shape of the now grinless lips – because the guy knew something, Ichigo realized, something that he hadn't dared to voice just yet, lest it turned out to be really true.

"So," the carrot-top muttered, his tone oddly flat despite the turmoil that he was going through on the inside. "So you're saying… You're saying that you'll just take off on a blind search for Toushiro, even though you have absolutely no idea what happened to him or where he could possibly be. Is that it?"

The silence fell heavily between then, sticky and impenetrable like a film of glue. And then Ichimaru shook his head slowly, his hand reaching to run through the short silver hairs at the back of his neck.

"I knew this would happen," he muttered through clenched teeth, obviously agitated. "I knew this would fuckin' happen."

_You knew what would happen? _An unpleasant, unhealthy suspicion started to chew at Ichigo's insides as the question permeated his whole being slowly but steadily, reaching to the very marrow of his bones till he felt as though he couldn't stand straight. This didn't sound right… How did-… How could Gin possibly-… _Goddammit_, now wasn't the time to play games or make guesses - not at this moment, not when they had just come out of Toushiro's apartment after finding it unlocked and empty – if there was something that the fox wasn't telling him… if there was any chance-

"What are you talking about?" Ichigo asked, but the words fell dully from his tongue, as though they were too big for his mouth, too hard to let out. "Ichimaru. What is going on?"

Another pause. Another ridiculous waste of time. And then…

"I'm pretty sure I kno' where he is an' who took 'im," Gin ground out in badly suppressed anger as he lifted his gaze up at the sky for a second, perhaps searching for another solution of the equation that his intuition had composed. "If ya wanna stay 'ere an' watch the police lose hours and hours wonderin' what ta do, that's fine with me. But I'd rather go do somethin' ta get 'im back safe an' sound, than rely on somebody else ta bother ta help 'im."

Once again, just before Ichigo had managed to understand the meaning of what he had heard, Ichimaru had spun around and started walking, his gait stiff and determined as he hurriedly crossed the street and approached his truck. And then, at the sight of the other teen pulling the keys out of his pocket and opening the door, Ichigo felt something inside him flip, some kind of a realization that broke and shattered his frustration to pieces, bringing out another, calmer, more serene emotion that enveloped him tightly, almost like a liquid shield, meant to protect his heart and soul. Something both irrational and inexplicably certain clicked at the back of his mind and his brows furrowed together, a firm expression twisting his features and, without another moment to waste, he promptly ran after the other teen.

"You fuckin' bastard, do you honestly think I'm gonna let you go by yourself?!"

He was pretty sure he saw Gin smirk as he yanked the truck's door open and climbed in.

* * *

The first thing that Toushiro noticed as he started to wake up was the faint smell of mold and neglect, lingering in the air like a bad aftertaste of a last-night party. After that came the throbbing pain in his head, drilling through every inch of his skull and digging deep beneath the bone to blind his mind, meddle it, turn it useless. _Ugh, what the- _He shifted awkwardly as the question fell apart in his head and completely ceased to exist. He was so dizzy, he couldn't even remember how to open his eyes, and when he finally did, the effort seemed to be impossible to make. His body refused to cooperate, still and heavy as though it had been sewed together with thousands of invisible strings, thousands of sharp, stinging needles, whose work had now transformed his existence into the inert hibernation of a cocoon. He wanted to move, he wanted to fight it… But how could he, when all he could feel was the excruciating, overwhelming weakness that was washing in spasms over him?

_Damn it…_

Little by little, he began to gain awareness, pulling himself to the surface like a worm that needed to push its way through thick, moist soil. Distantly, he heard the click of a lighter being put to use and then the unpleasant scent of stagnancy was replaced with something else; something painfully familiar that crawled up his nostrils and made him jerk back in disgust, his eyes finally shooting open to meet the world and whatever it offered. His vision was still nastily blurred, struggling to crystalize as the mechanisms in his mind slowly set into motion, but even before he could see, he already knew who was sitting in front of him, stretched lazily across a battered couch and contemplating the boy's every move as though it was some kind of a perverted spectacle played in an abandoned, low-quality theater.

"Woke up finally, huh? I got you quite good, I suppose, knocking you out like that…"

Hitsugaya let out a small groan into the piece of duct tape plastered securely to his mouth and as the sound grated against his eardrums, he involuntarily closed his eyes again, trying to breathe steadily through his nose. _Think, Toushiro, think… _The first thing that he noticed was that he was sitting on a hard, creaking wooden chair, in the middle of a room that seemed vaguely familiar, although he couldn't figure out right away the reason for this nagging sense of recognition that oozed steadily off the walls, painted the floor and slipped towards him. His hands shifted a bit, meeting the tightness of the wire that had been wrapped several times around his wrists in order to hold them down to the arm-rests, and then, very carefully, he checked his ankles and bit back a whimper, finding his now bare and numb from the cold feet binded so tightly that he couldn't lift them an inch from the parquet.

"Uncomfortable?" Grimmjow asked through a smoke-stained snicker. "Cuz that's kind of the point."

As Toushiro turned his head to give his kidnapper a weak glare, he realized that by now he should be more than a little terrified by what had happened to him. Instead, all he could feel was a dull, painful throb of resignation that twisted and turned his stomach till the mix of the unhealthy sensation and the palpable stench of weed made him nauseous, made him wrinkle his nose and retrieve as far as he could into the chair. The person before him was exactly the same as the teenager he had met several years ago at that abandoned playground in the beginning of the school year. The same strong jaw, the same cunning, sly eyes, the same haughty smirk, albeit all of those somehow elongated, bigger, cruder… They all sculptured the familiar features of his erstwhile friend. Indeed, juvie had done little to change Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez – if anything, it seemed to had made him worse than before, more ruthless than the angry youth that Toushiro had grown to known, closer to the image of a criminal than to the one of a confused and misunderstood punk that wanted to shine among his fellows. Instead of the disinterest and slight cruelty that had previously dictated the guy's actions, there was an unhidden, insatiable thirst for vengeance brewing behind the blue gaze, the once serene colour now saturated with so much hatred and greed, so much spite and anger, that the white-haired boy couldn't help it but shiver.

"What? Is this bothering you?" Grimmjow questioned mockingly, leaning towards the smaller male, close enough to place his forearm across Toushiro's knees. Hitsugaya jerked again, brows knitting in a defiant frown, yet the hostile expression was merely rewarded by a long puff of smoke that the older guy very slowly and very purposefully blew in his face. "Yeah? Ya used to love this shit. Don't tell me it doesn't bring back old memories." When Hitsugaya turned his head to the side, trying to get away from the stench of pot that the other one was persistently releasing in his personal bubble, Grimmjow just rolled his eyes and reached across to grasp the genius' chin and turn it harshly back toward himself. "Look at me when I'm talking to you." He paused, his grin dropping slight, features growing cold and malicious as he met his captive's resilient gaze. With a small growl, the taller male waved the hand with the joint around indefinitely, depicting a small circle that was obviously meant to hint towards the measures of the room. "Do you like this, huh? Like this place? Thanks to you, it's all that is left of my beloved club."

_Ah_, a part of Toushiro's mind registered contently, that's why it all seemed so familiar. He took a furtive, uncertain glimpse around, scrutinizing the surroundings, the half-cleaned layers of dust and dirt, the few pieces of furniture left to rot between these four walls, and the remainder of a door that stood proudly behind Grimmjow's back. It took him longer than usual to recall the exact location of the most memorable objects that had once adorned this room, but he still managed to focus and mentally pinpoint the places of the windows, the names of the streets that stretched nearby and the distance between the staircase and his current whereabouts. He wasn't entirely sure how exactly he was going to use this knowledge, but it was better than nothing, and so much easier to focus when he had a general idea as to where he was.

And where he _was_, was a couple of hours of driving away from Karakura…

"You seemed to have settled quite well," Grimmjow continued, eyeing Toushiro from an unpleasantly close distance. "Uncle came to the rescue, boyfriend saved yer ass and virginity in time, and now you live in a nice little apartment in Karakura, your unseemly history all left behind for the crows to pick at." He snorted, cobalt eyes flashing dangerously as he took another drag from his cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs, allowing the toxins to be absorbed properly into his system. "Fucking fantastic, eh? Quite unlike what happened to me. I got what I deserved, I guess: they sent me to juvie, my family practically disowned me, the only good thing that became of my release from the damned institution was that I met a couple of lads to renew the business with." He grinned predatorily and reached to pat boy's cheek in a falsely friendly manner. "But I suppose it's not very polite to tell your guest they've ruined your life out of selfishness and naivety… After all, you are here to pay your dues, aren't you?" Another drag and Toushiro watched, unmovable, as the statue as the fumes slowly curled out of the other one's lips and framed his face for a long moment. Then Grimmjow grinned again and pulled back just a bit. "My dear, _Shiro-kun_… I have _so _many ideas about what I want to do with you… But I guess it's only fair that I start with the simplest one. After all," his grin widened and Hitsugaya felt himself pale. "I know how proud you must be for quitting drugs."

In some kind of a frozen, mortified state, the boy watched as Grimmjow stood up and stretched, putting out the finished fag in the ashtray he had placed on the arm-rest of his couch. Very lazily, very demonstratively, he then walked around Toushiro's chair, disappearing from sight and making the captive whimper uselessly against the duct tape around his mouth as a strong, weakening stream of horror filled up his system and made his breathing lose its regular pattern. He writhed uselessly against the restraints, groaning when the wire only dug painfully in his skin, and he clearly heard Grimmjow chuckle from somewhere at the other side of the room, the sound of drawers being pulled open and things being take out filling up the air. Dragging. Rustling. Popping. Swooshing… _God, please, oh God, let it not be- _A couple of minutes later, the older guy was once again in front of Toushiro, a neat, thin syringe with some kind of a clear liquid balanced between his fingers.

"Remember that tea I have you when you were last here?" he asked with a click of his tongue, kneeling before the now wide-eyed boy. "I think it's time to have you try the real thing."

_No… no, no, no…_

Shaking his head desperately, Toushiro watched as though through a nightmare as his kidnapper merely chuckled before grabbing his elbow in a vice-like grip.

"By the time I'm done with you," he muttered, more to himself that to the boy. "You will be licking my boots for another dose."

Toushiro screwed his eyes shut and whimpered helplessly as the needle pierced his skin.

* * *

Ichigo just sat there in silence, watching intently as the road raced to get underneath the large tires of the truck, the rusty caress of the sunsets showering everything with warm, fiery gentleness. They were moving as fast as the engine and the speed limited allowed them to, watching cars sweep by at an ungodly tempo and other, fellow rickety machines fall behind, puffing and groaning with the effort to move. He could hear Ichimaru tapping his fingertips on the wheel beside him, those slit eyes unmovable and strangely calm, devoid of that destructive aggression that the carrot-top was so used to seeing whenever he ended up in an interaction with the other teen – instead, there was determination now locked in the searing irises; solid, _unyielding_ determination unlike anything that the fox had ever showed before. In fact, if Ichigo didn't know any better, if he wasn't painfully aware of what was happening, the expression on Ichimaru's face might've very easily misled him. In contrast to the impulsive and impatient personality that he had grown accustomed to, Gin seemed incredibly normal and quiet now… Just an average kid from an average high school, having his adolescent problems taking over his entire world…

Mediocrity.

It was such a damn ridiculous notion, especially considering what kind of a conversation they had had just a minute ago, and an odd, unusual laughter pressed against the carrot-top's lips at the thought. He couldn't help the feeling that he was being dragged along for a ride that he had no idea if he could handle, especially since he was only now beginning to understand what the rollercoaster was going to take him through.

"This doesn't sound like Toushiro at all," Ichigo tried after a bit, his voice weak and wilted like a dying flower. "He's always such a-"

"Prude?" Ichimaru supplied calmly. "That he is." And he reached to open the window beside him just bit, a stream of cool air swiftly trickling into the confines of the vehicle. The ordinarily of the statement only made the carrot-top feel even more foolish than before, like he had slept through the whole movie and ended up a witness of the finale alone.

"I can't believe he used to do drugs," Ichigo ventured quietly, half-expecting an outburst from the other male – one that he, once again, was spared with a shrug.

"Then don't," the fox offered evenly. "'s a life he left behind anyways. He is who he is now. Who he would've always been if it hadn' been fo' that shit mom of his an' his so-called 'friend'. It was what he was born with – this idiotic perfectionistic tendency o' his, an' the ambition ta prove that he _can_, an' all the other flaws an' qualities that we kno' an' love…"

_Know and love…_

Ichigo almost laughed at how simply Ichimaru seemed to say it. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, that he felt this way towards the white-haired genius, that he cared so deeply for a person he also relentlessly tortured because he didn't know what else to do to prove that he wasn't indifferent. If there was a moment when Gin had doubted himself for falling for the boy, it had long passed, and he didn't seem likely to go back to that stage ever again, because his mind was set on it, his heart had found someone to beat for, and he just couldn't give up on that, no matter how wrong or unfair it was for everyone involved in this situation. Was it persistence that drove this guy forth, or was it really just desperation? _Fear_, of losing the one thing that had ever held any value for him, of losing it so completely and irrevocably that even friendship would be out of the question. It was sad, really… How could it not be? In the end, in spite of the selfish way he acted, in spite of his temper and tendencies to screw everything up beyond repair, Gin seemed to love Toushiro unconditionally – no questions, no regrets, no inhibitions. It was suffocating, but it was also undeniably amazing, especially considering what kind of a person Ichimaru was – to everyone, including to himself. And also…

…For a second, Ichigo almost saw it – whatever it was that had made Toushiro open his heart up for this person – because, really, Gin was the worst and the _best_ combination of difficult and easy that could ever exist. He was a conquest and a conqueror, all rolled into one, for to win the love of someone like that was a feat in itself, to keep it was even harder, and to bear its weight was a burden and a blessing that could destroy anyone. Even the strongest person.

"So…" the carrot-top trailed, half-speaking to fill in the awkwardly empty bubble that was swelling around him. "You really think that Grimmjow guy-"

"I'm sure of it…" Ichigo noticed something change briefly in the driver's expression. "Toushiro's always had a way of misjudgin' people. Him… you, me… The moment I met that moron, I knew he was trouble. But goddamn it, was it hard to make Toushiro see it, too…"

"Maybe we should call his uncle."

"We ain't callin' anyone!" Ichimaru snapped, throwing a suddenly rather baneful glance in the carrot-top's direction. "This is our fault and we will fix it! We're not gettin' anyone involved in this shit until we absolutely must, an' if ya have any objections regardin' the matter, ya better tell right now, so I can throw ya out on the next gas station." He paused, sucking in a deep breath of air and then releasing it slowly, an obvious attempt to sooth his nerves. "We dun kno' what the situation is. Getting' the police or his uncle inta this might jus' end up hurtin' Toushiro. I dunno bout ya, but I ain't takin' that risk, no matter how sensible or not ya think it is." Another glance. "So are ya in or are ya out?"

Ichigo held up Ichimaru's slit gaze for a second, and then nodded slowly before both of them turned their eyes back to the windscreen. He knew it was stupid even as he made up his mind and leaned his head against the side window, hoping that he wasn't doing the wrong thing by trusting Gin.

But if Toushiro had, once upon a time, then there must've been a solid reason for it.

"I'm in."

* * *

The town that they arrived at was rather small and rather badly lit, its streets narrow, cracked and littered with holes that could cause trouble to any experienced driver no matter no careful they were. The traffic was pretty much non-existent, though the occasional taxi did whiz by, hurrying to transport some lost soul from point A to point B without clashing with vehicles that drove from the opposite direction. Ichimaru's bulky truck looked positively awkward in the tight space between the sidewalks, lumbering around badly parked cars and trash bins and making what felt like an ungodly noise in the thick silence that surrounded them.

"Do you know your way around?"

"Hasn' changed that much," Ichimaru affirmed laconically, swirling right on the next block and forcing the vehicle forward, towards a half-full line of parking spaces. It was only when the guy finally slowed down to a stop into one of those places and switched off the engine that Ichigo realized fully just how eerie quiet everything around them really was. Like an abandoned ghost village, inhibited only by the crisp and hollow memories of the declined day.

"'s more o' a place ta visit durin' the summer," Gin muttered as he unbuckled himself and stretched his stiff limbs a bit. "If ya kno' where ta go, it can be quite fun even now, but… it's nowhere near what it can be when tourists infest it…"

Ichigo didn't reply, simply staring blankly in the distance before he turned to face the other teen, meeting the unimpressed and slightly impatient gaze with his own chocolate-brown one.

"So," he murmured. "Do you have an actual plan now that we've arrived?"

The moment that passed soundlessly and without any answer whatsoever nearly had the carrot-top panicking as the features of his unwilling companion assumed a slightly uncertain expression. Then the fox nodded his head and reached across the strawberry for the worn-out glove compartment, pulling out a piece of an old newspaper and a surprisingly decent pen.

"Grimmjow's always been a moron," Ichimaru muttered as he tore off a piece of the wrinkled newspaper and started scribbling in the stipe of free space atop the blocks of articles. "He doesn' have much imagination, so I think I have a few ideas where he might be…"

"A few?" Ichigo repeated incredulously, realizing only then that the other one was making a list of addresses. "_A few_?!"

"Have ya been in this town before?"

"I-… once? Maybe twice?" Ichigo ventured, sounding unsure. Whenever that had been, it hadn't happened any time in the past four years, but Gin didn't seem to care about that, nodding in agreement as though the reluctant admission somehow proved a point. After a small thoughtful pause, the silver-haired teen tore the piece of paper in half, handing a share to the carrot-top.

"Then ya're not completely lost," he approved, much to the carrot-top's dismay. "Ya should be able ta find these with a GPS system either way; they are not that far 'ere. I have Toushiro's phone with me, so if ya need anythin', ya can dial that. An'," he let out a small, contempt-filled sigh and added with a hint of annoyance. "_And_ I presume I can rely on 'im havin' ya in his contacts, too. Le's go."

"Wait," Ichigo said suddenly, making the other one pause with his hand on the door. "What if he's not in any of those places?"

There was a long, grave skip of time. Then Ichimaru just shook his head and slid out.

"He is," the fox declared firmly. "That bastard wouldn't miss a chance to take Toushiro all the way back to the place he barely escaped from."

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**_A/N: Remember: nice reviews. And while you're at it, lazy people who failed to review 'Headstrong Possession' should go and do that instead of alerting me that more than a half of my regular readers have gone missing. While we are at it, there's also a new GinHitsu story that I've started, so check that out, and leave a vote at the NEW poll, which I put recently. Yes, it's basically the same question, but so much time has passed since the previous poll, that I felt that I needed to refreshen it._**


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: I really wanted to have this be the final chapter, but as I kept going, at some point it felt like I was really pushing it for a single chapter. So this is the last chapter BUT we are having an epilogue. I hope I'll be able to get the epilogue up soon enough - halfway done with it, to be honest - but I can't promise anything. Exams are coming up and I'm trying to focus on studying as much as I can, so writing time is REALLY limited. Anyways. I hope you enjoy.**_

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It was hard to believe that time existed. If it did, he had completely lost track of it. His world had become a consecution of mind-blowing highs and heart-wrenching downs. He had no strength to fight the euphoria as it leaked inside him through the needle, and even though he knew he should detest what was being done to him, every time the effect wore off, he found himself straining against the bounds, uncaring for his sore wrists and the angry red lines across them as he ached with every cell in his being to sink back in the hazy heaven where he now felt he belonged. It was as though his world was shattering every time the drug drained from his system, and he felt fragile and small, ready to break once the toxins stopped messing with his head. Laughter – he heard it often – and mockery, and a hand that forced water down his throat, but he registered them very vaguely, like swimming through a thick, moist fog. It could've been hours since they had started, could've been days. He had no idea. He was either sleeping, floating, or in excruciating agony, as his brain throbbed madly in his skull every time he regained his senses and awareness, his body so limp and exhausted that he had to struggle not to slump weakly into the chair and pass out the moment he opened his eyes.

And then one evening – it had to be evening, because it was getting darker outside – Grimmjow slapped him so hard across the face to wake him up, he had to screw his eyes shut to get his vision to stop shaking.

"You looked too comfortable," the guy sneered from his place on the opposite chair as Toushiro grunted and curled his numb fingers around the ends of the arm rests. He needed a second to make sure the obnoxious piece of tape had not been reattached to his mouth to muffle him, and his lips smacked dry and numb against one another, tasting the bitter oxygen on his tongue, across his palate and deep down in the core of his aching chest. Each and every one of his senses seemed dulled and useless. No sight. No hearing. No nothing.

It was like threading through a nightmare that he had no chance of waking up from, though fright wasn't crashing down on him properly, wasn't there to make him feel alive...

"What do you want?" Toushiro lisped, his eyes feeling sticky and raw, sending tendrils of deep, throbbing pain through his temples and scalp while he struggled to keep himself together. "Whatever it is, just get it over and done with."

The sound of Grimmjow's chuckle grated like a rough rock against the boy's eardrums, and then a cruel hand grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at his kidnapper despite the exhaustion, despite the utmost, sickening feeling in his stomach that the other one's leering grin only intensified.

"Ya're being rude again," the older male pointed out lowly, each word dripping with sweetened venom as he moved to the end of his seat to contemplate Toushiro's face from a close up. Grimmjow seemed to be quite keen on invading his captive's personal space – mostly probably because of the expression of discomfort said captive couldn't seem to be able to drop from his features – and even though in his half-drugged state the boy wasn't supposed to be as aware of the intrusive presence as normal, his body still appeared to be reluctant to share the same bubble as Grimmjow, shrinking and jerking every time skin touched his skin, breath mingled with his breath. "And you'd think anyone in yer situation would've learned by now…"

Toushiro swallowed, nearly choking when his throat contracted dryly around the thick air, reminding him once again of the lamentable condition of his papery lungs, wax-like limbs and cloudy consciousness. He wanted to snap at his captor, to show at least a little bit of spirit – just enough to give himself hope that he would pull through – but there was no strength and fire left inside him, and he couldn't bring himself to do more than curse when Grimmjow's thumb slid along the bottom of his mouth with lecherous playfulness.

"I bet you'll feel just fine if I give you another dose, won't ya?" a dull fingernail pressed on the edge of his lower lip, pulling down slightly to bare a hint of teeth before Toushiro twisted away with a huff. "Can't compare the shitty joints we used to smoke to this beauty, hm?"

"Just do it and go," the smaller male spat out grittily. "You never felt the need for a chit-chat before."

Grimmjow's grin cracked wide open and much to Toushiro's surprise, he pulled back, leaving the captive to his own private space as he straightened up in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee.

"Now, that's not a polite way to ask…" the older guy stated, cobalt blue eyes drilling through the other one's faded gaze like needles. "Try again, and use the magic word this time."

It took Toushiro a few seconds to grasp what Grimmjow was on about, his dysfunctional brain dragging half a mile behind the events even as he shook his head and frowned, trying to make sense of what he was being told. And then it dawned on him, and what little blood remained in his face drained away, making him feel cold and empty, and _in craving_, even as his mind urged him to understand that he should not, _could_ not be yielding so quickly.

"What makes you think I would?" he managed bitterly, but there was a sort of weakness in his voice, in his eyes and stomach that he knew his former friend could read oh-too-well. The kidnapper's smile widened by a couple of teeth and he snickered, drumming a set of fingers over his arm-rest in a show of exaggerated boredom.

"The look on yer face, for starters," he offered casually, waving his hand around indefinitely before he draped it around the back of the chair. "And the fact that I know exactly what you've taken the past few couple of days."

_Days? _Toushiro's chest tightened with apprehension, fear and disbelief fighting to take over his heart. His brows quivered, trying to muster a proper, doubtful scowl, but the efforts were without result, and his trembling fists were the least proof he could offer on the matter.

"You're lying."

"Maybe," the word fell slimy and greasy from the taller male's tongue, like a disgusting poisonous worm that could sniff out warm flesh from miles. "Doesn't change the fact that you want it so bad, it literally hurts you. Doesn't change the fact that you love it. Doesn't change who you are, where you come from and what you've tried to escape from."

Toushiro's features softened, something akin to resignation trying to take over his mind and make him, _force_ him to accept the intrusive words like unwelcomed guests that would later refuse to leave his head. It was surprisingly strong really, the crowd of bustling and misshapen thoughts that swell and accumulated from the back and towards the front of his mind without giving him for a single moment a fighting chance to stop them. All his flaws. All his fears and regrets… And the worst bit was that a part of him didn't care – _couldn't_ care - didn't give a fuck about anything other the little chemical ecstasy, locked away in Grimmjow's drawer, out of sight, but definitely not out of mind.

_Doesn't change who you are_.

And who _was_ he? A druggie that could've gone so much further, could've done so much worse if he hadn't got lucky? So he had cheated his own life, his own fate at the end, hadn't he? He had taken off down a road that wasn't meant for him to see at all.

But, indeed, the fluke didn't alter the truth of his past or where he had come back to, after all these years, to reap the seeds that he had sowed for his future and then allowed to thrive on their own, into the wicked soil Grimmjow had worked so hard to prepare. Perhaps he wasn't even meant to be alive. Perhaps, given other circumstances, he would've ended up just like his mom, killed by his own addiction, fed up with the one thing that made him happy.

_Stop. You're wrong._

But Grimmjow was _right_, wasn't he? And so was that little, screechy voice that pierced through his aching brain. No matter how hard it was to accept, no matter how well he knew that he shouldn't be allowing his thoughts to even venture as close as to consider the possibility that he was coveting for the drug, here he was, doing just that. And eventually he wouldn't have a choice. The need was going to overthrow the caution, he was going to cave in and push aside everything that tried to hold him grounded, because nothing mattered, nothing was true or real, or beautiful in this world, except what came from the syringe and muted the pain.

The pain… never stopped.

He just hadn't noticed it before. He failed to realize how bad it was, because he was constantly living _inside_ it, like a parasite settled in the belly of a monster, never to see the sunlight, never to breathe or scream. The drug had pulled him out and let him touch the clouds, the earth, the flames, the water.

Now there was no going back, there no way he could escape as his sanity dripped out of his ears and the primal urge to be happy overthrew the knowledge that he should be suffering.

"I'm not like you," Hitsugaya managed, but Grimmjow's lips merely stretched wider to crawl up towards his cheekbones. You can't fool me, that smile said, but more importantly – you can't fool your own mind.

_So give yourself a moment and tell me… _

_Toushiro…_

…_Are you alive in there?_

For the first time since he had gained awareness, Toushiro noticed how hot and feverish he felt, hair sticking to his neck and forehead as though he was coming down with a flu that he had stubbornly ignored till this moment with the silly belief he would be getting his medicine. His toes were numb and freezing cold where his bare feet were tied down to the chilly floor, and with the dulling effect of the drug wearing off at a rising speed, the sensation was growing more and more acute. Within a couple of hours he'd be in pain a hundred times worse than this, a pain as much physical, as it would be mental, and when the delirium took over…

"C'mon, Toushiro," Grimmjow urged, tauntingly tender as he tilted his head to the side and eyed his captive from head to toe. "Tell me what you need. Beg me like a good boy, and you're gonna get exactly what you've asked for."

…when the delirium took over, he'd be at Grimmjow's mercy, whether he chose it or not.

Hitsugaya's stomach lurched and tightened at the realization, a nauseous taste bubbling up his throat and making him whimper pathetically as he squeezed his eyes shut. The other one's words rang agonizingly clear in his head, and even as everything else, everything important drained like sand between opened fingers, the tormenting echo of the nasty encouragement remained. He yearned to tell himself there was no chance he would bow his head for this, that it would be alright, because he wouldn't give his captor the satisfaction to hear him pleading for more… But the tingling ache, deep within his bones, sang a different song, already assuring him that the pain would spread the longer he denied himself what he wanted, what he really _was_ desperate to get.

"F-fuck you."

"Convincing," Grimmjow stated through what looked like honest amusement, and to Toushiro's surprise, he pushed himself to his feet. He towered over where the smaller male was tied up, not menacingly, but definitely gloating and added, almost off-handedly. "You'll come around, don't worry... I'll be back to check on you in a couple of hours."

The piece of tape reappeared magically in his hand and the boy growled, snapping his head to the side in a futile show of struggle. Grimmjow merely clicked his tongue reproachfully and gripped Toushiro's chin with one of his large hands, proceeding with his mission as though there had been no unpleasant hinders whatsoever.

Five minutes later he was gone and Toushiro was left alone in the room, breathing heavily through his nose, curling his toes against the cold floor, and wondering what the hell he was fighting for.

1111

The first address that Ichigo checked was a dead end. Whatever had stood there last time Gin had checked, it was long ago demolished and the skeleton of a new building was being erected from the ground, arching scraggy and shapeless with a promise for something beautifully smooth in the future. Perhaps a hotel. Perhaps a bar. Ichigo had no idea, and honestly couldn't have cared less, only somewhat angry that his first attempt had proven to be in vain, and also a bit suspicious that perhaps Gin had sent him on a wildgoose chase after all. Even with the memories from the past few hours still fresh in his head, he wasn't about to lie to himself and say that he trusted the man – he wouldn't put it past someone like Ichimaru to risk shining at another's expense, especially when it could end up winning him the last match.

But no.

The carrot-top shook his head, striding down the street with his mobile phone's screen glowing brightly with a map of the neighbourhood, _no_, Ichigo couldn't go back to that. Couldn't fuck everything up thinking like a child, like a _brat_ rather than a grown up person. Such attitude was what had got them all in this mess to begin with, and he wasn't going to make the same mistake again. He had seen it with his eyes, he had seen it as clear as day even if he did not like to admit it – Gin cared deeply for Toushiro, and he would not risk the boy's life and safety to prove his own worthiness.

And neither would Ichigo, for that matter, even if for a moment there the impulse to turn around and chase after the other guy was almost suffocating. He could trust Gin, he could. For Toushiro's sake.

So be it if he didn't get his happy ending at the end. He would most likely deserve it after what he had done. But he would see to it that Toushiro was not hurt.

He would see to it, if it was the last thing he did…

The part of the town that he entered a few minutes later was nearly pitch-dark, with poor, dolefully flickering illumination - wherever one was present at all - and a look of slow downfall, typical for the slums. The further he walked into the neighbourhood, the worst it got. The biggest gatherings of people he stumbled upon were in front of the couple of tastlessly flashy discos jammed between the older, deteriorating buildings, and the few broken park benches, which appeared to be the most popular spots for smoking pot and/or sucking on cheap cigarettes. He made sure to stay as far away from sight as possible, and effectively evaded any unwanted attention from the locals, only to find himself not much later approaching an old, dark building at the dead end of one of the side streets off the main road.

Most of the windows were nailed shut with planks and spray-painted with various amateur versions of graffiti art, but nonetheless Ichigo could tell the place had looked quite stunning a few years back, right before it had closed down. It still held a sort of glory when compared to the rest of the lifeless ruins he had stumbled upon before, like a little, misshapen coin hidden among a pile of pebbles, the place's value clear even if the darkness swallowed some of the smaller flaws and gave it a generally better look than it probably had in broad daylight. Nonetheless, Ichigo felt his heart sink at the sight of it, and not because of what had happened to the building. Just as he had feared, this was yet another, painfully similar to the first one, dead end. The realization gave him a pang of miserable frustration that set his nerves on fire the moment he thought about all the time he was wasting in blind search for someone who might not even be in this town. And that bloody bastard Ichimaru… Could it really be a coincidence that the carrot-top's trail bumped into deserted or demolished houses, into forgotten lanes and neighbourhoods that seemed to be inhabited solely by druggies and thugs? _Could it_? Or was it just a clever set up?

Shaking his head as he took a few steps back, Ichigo lifted his hands to his head and rubbed soothing circles into his temples and scalp. It was so easy to lapse into doubt that he was almost afraid how he was going to survive the rest of this search party without doing something stupid. The tension of not knowing what had happened to Toushiro was doing things to his brain and judgment, and the worst part was that he could not afford to be rash now - there was just too much at stake for him to allow himself to be a fool. Even unintentionally.

With a soft sigh and the conviction that he would not do this again, he prepared to turn around and make his way out to the main road, when something caught his attention and made him pause.

The window on the second floor was opened.

He hadn't noticed it immediately and the chances were, he wouldn't have spotted anything at all, but there was something very deliberate and devoid of hooligan interference in the way the ends of the planks had been gently separated from where they had held to the frame, and the whole thing was pushed back, just enough to let some air into the building.

Ichigo frowned. It was probably nothing – his over-alerted nerves were making him put too much meaning on a simple little detail – but he wouldn't be able to carry on if he didn't check what was going on and convince himself that he truly had no reason to be here any longer. Making his way closer to the building, the carrot-top eyed the single tree growing near that side of the abandoned edifice. If this wasn't all coincidental and the window had been opened on purpose from the inside, the person who had done so had probably relied on the branches to cover up his doings. There was, however, another thing that stemmed from this decision, and Ichigo had to mentally thank god for the person's badly conjured plan as he stepped closer to the trunk and began to slowly ascend the tree. If a police car happened to pass by – which was highly unlikely considering his location – he would probably get in tons of trouble for doing this (given they managed to get him down, that is) and he chuckled morbidly to himself at the thought as he pushed himself further and further up the boughs till he reached the right level to peer inside the house. It was nearly impossible to see if there was anything in there with the darkness outside and the crisscrossing planks still blocking half of the view, but if one looked really hard, there was something almost like… a silhouette… forming in the distance.

"The hell is that?" Taking a few ginger steps forwards, Ichigo hovered a few feet away from the window, his feet balancing on a branch while he held on to another one above and a second beside himself to keep him steady. He could swear he was seeing a dull glow from the inside – perhaps illumination, seeping scarcely from nearby rooms rather than this particular one – and this made him even more suspicious. Deciding that he needed to check all of this himself, Ichigo carefully approached the building even more, mentally gauging the distance between where he stood and the windows and his chances of survival if he tried to reach the frame. Luckily for him, there was a nice, stone parapet right under the sill, too narrow to have him maintain balance for long, but enough to give him leverage for a few seconds. If he managed to do this right, he'd be able to get himself into the house quickly enough to avoid falling, and once he was there, he could think more carefully about how he would get out.

One problem at a time.

He took a couple of deep breaths in and before he had managed to chicken out, he leaped against the frame and scrambled to hold on. His toes found the needed support and he somehow managed to cling to the slippery wall long enough to pull the window open and get into the building. He cringed at the dull thud his feet produced upon meeting the old creaky parquet and had to bite his lower lip to keep himself from making additional sounds. What he was trying to keep quiet for – he didn't know yet – but his intuition told him he needed to be careful, and as he lifted his eyes and allowed his sight to adjust to the poor light, he finally understood why.

The chair's back was turned towards him and the face of whoever was sitting inside it was not into view, but the stark white hair and the pale flesh at the back of the person's neck could only belong to Toushiro. His head was tilted awkwardly to the side, propped on the edge of the chair in order to lessen the tension in his tendons, but his whole figure looked completely slumped down: enervated, weak and curled up as far away from reality as possible. Resisting the urge to call out the boy's name, Ichigo rose to his feet and stumbled to the other one's side, half in denial of what he was seeing, half convinced that this was all painfully true. And when he finally found himself in front of the youth he had been searching for, his heart skipped a beat for a second time that evening and he choked on his own breath.

Toushiro seemed to be completely unaware of the new presence in the room, half-dozing off as his chest heaved with the effort to keep him breathing. The usually soft snowy wisps were sticking to his feverish forehead and underlying the pastel grey colour of his skin as he dissolved helplessly in his seat, limp like a sick man and slack as a rag puppet whose strings had been cut loose. It was almost like seeing an entirely different person. There was something frighteningly fragile and unnatural emanating from Toushiro's whole being, like a subtle scent of a creature only partially alive and therefore frozen in a permanent state of half-existence. An unhealthy mixture of red and blue was rimming thickly the boy's eyes, those baby soft cheeks now brought to a sunken and thin semblance of their usual state while his bones stood out frail and brittle, like the crumbling pillars of an old building that was about to fall apart from the slightest touch of the wind…

And all of this in a matter of few damned days.

"Toushiro…" the carrot-top managed, reaching with trembling fingers to peel the plaster off the smaller male's lips. It took a few seconds for the boy to react, but then he slowly lifted his eyelids and stared with bleary eyes at the person above him.

And for one endless moment, there was no recognition on Toushiro's face, no emotion but the inmost and absolute desire to surrender, and when it finally came back to him like the memory of a lost dream, the boy blinked tiredly in confusion, a sort of dull disbelief pulsing behind his gaze.

"Ichigo…" the genius whispered, then groaned, shaking his head as though the mere word was causing him pain. "What are you d-doing-…?"

Hushing him quickly, Ichigo grabbed a hold of wire around the kid's flaccid wrists, unwrapping it hurriedly and wincing when the harsh material separated from the lines of red, sore cuts. He kneeled down next to the other one's ankle and repeated the procedure, pausing just enough to rub the ice-cold foot for a moment before moving to the other leg. Toushiro made no move to help him or encourage him in any way, just sitting there formlessly as though this was all happening on some indefinite place in the universe, hundreds of miles away from him. He wasn't processing what was going on, shutting down completely instead, and it frightened his frantic rescuer, and frightened him far more than outright expressed panic and horror.

"We need to go," Ichigo urged, cupping Toushiro's blank face for a moment and giving his cheeks a small pat to keep him awake. He didn't even get a groan or a nod in response – the boy seemed completely out of it, as though he couldn't understand what was required of him - and his eyes were drooping close even as he let Ichigo pull him to his feet and try to wound Toushiro's arm over his broader shoulders. "We need to go, _now_."

"I don't… think I can," Toushiro mumbled in a slur, knees already buckling on the first step. "I'm so tired…. Please, just let me stay here."

Grunting in exasperation, Ichigo gave up on helping the boy walk and decided on carrying his dead weight instead. He let Toushiro back in his chair and was just bending down to pick him up, when the sound of footsteps reached his ears and he froze.

_Click!_

"I'd step away from him if I were you," Grimmjow offered kindly, the gun glinting menacingly in the poor illumination as he took an aim at Ichigo's heart and stretched his lips in a casual, toothy grin. "I don't like making a mess, but I will if I have to."

Ichigo slowly straightened up but didn't step away from Toushiro, his eyes pinned on the kidnapper as he tried to figure out how serious the threat of the firearm really was. As if reading his mind, Grimmjow let out a small snicker and tilted his head to the side, measuring the carrot-top's height with curiosity.

"Nobody's gonna hear if a gun goes off in this part of the town," Grimmjow assured them both, his almost feline, azure eyes shifting from Toushiro to Ichigo and back with immense glee. "I don't have any trouble smearing your guts all over the floor, so don't try anything funny, alright? I want to know how you found out where we were."

"I didn't," Ichigo said, a bit too quickly. "I was just passing by and-"

"Oh, nonono. Don't feed me this shit, punk, I've seen you in Shiro's school. You sure as hell ain't here by accident," his thumb touched the gun's hammer, flipping it lazily back and forth to produce the familiar clicking sound and he let his gaze narrow for a trice. "C'mon. Spill it and I might go easy on you."

With the corner of his eye, Ichigo saw Toushiro shifting in his chair and the small reminder of the shorter male's current condition had his back tightening with tension. He needed to get the boy out of here and he needed to do it fast, regardless of what it was going to cost him – him, Gin or even Grimmjow – because the kid was immensely unwell, and if he didn't get to a hospital as soon as possible, there was no saying how much he was going to last.

"Grimm, please," the youngest one's voice sounded shuddery and weak, yet surprisingly clear compared to how it had dragged and faded just a few minutes ago. There was honest fear edging in his tone now, feeding on the previous exhaustion as he struggled with every word, every sound and syllable, all in efforts to be heard and understood. "He's got nothing to do with this… Let him go."

"That's really sweet, Shiro-chan, but I think we both know why it ain't gonna happen," _Click. Click._ Grimmjow's grin quivered, the light catching onto his teeth and making the gloating smile look a bit unsound, like a misplaced piece in the middle of an already constructed jigsaw puzzle. "I can't have him running off to the police, and he seems like too much trouble to stay out of this… Maybe I'll take him out for a walk in the woods and shoot him in the brain, and we'll see if anyone can find his body when the wild dogs come looking for meat."

Ichigo heard Toushiro's breath catch and for a second he sounded like he was choking, but when he made a move to stand up, the carrot-top grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind his back, standing between him and the pointed gun and effectively blocking a good part of the meager light that was seeping through the window.

"What did I tell you, punk?" Grimmjow hissed, sounding somewhat exasperated as he stepped forward. "Out of the way."

"Ichigo, do as he says, I can handle-"

"He'll shoot me no matter what I do," the carrot-top said, the situation slowly becoming clearer and clearer in his head as he watched the kidnapper's face and the impatient, slightly jittery look on his face. "But he won't risk shooting you."

"Oh, how insightful," Grimmjow spat out, taking another step forward. His eyes were narrowed into the darkness, struggling to depict the correct outlines of Ichigo's body from in front of Toushiro's smaller but constantly reeling and moving figure. "Are you willing to bet your life on this theory, doctor? And his life as well, for that matter?"

Ichigo stiffed at the question but didn't back down, silently measuring the distance between the two of them and trying to figure out his chances of success if he tried to do something extreme to get that gun out of the way. There was a gleam in Grimmjow's eyes that he didn't like, a slight tilt away from the path of reason that reeked of unpredictability… But if he was going to hope to keep Toushiro safe, he was going to have to take a chance, and he was going to have to do it soon.

"You don't have to kill him…" Toushiro's pleading voice sounded like the mewl of a kitten, coming out desperate and jumbled as the boy tried to tear from Ichigo's grip, only to give up rather quickly under the unyielding hold and stay where he was with his knees constantly buckling beneath his weight. "Please… let's just leave him here. I'll come with you. We'll go wherever you want."

Grimmjow snorted loudly, his features drawing taut over his face as a raw, venomous look stretched across them

"You think I need your permission, bitch?" he barked, almost laughing at the thought. "I _own_ you now, I can do with you as I please, and you sure as hell are gonna be grateful because no matter what your rotting little brain thinks, you're nothing but a-"

Grimmjow didn't have time to finish as Ichigo launched forward, tearing himself from Toushiro and aiming to grab the gun. The stunt obviously caught the cat-eyed man by surprise and he made a move to back off, only to lose his proper aim and fail to pull the trigger immediately. Nonetheless, the piercing sound of a bullet cutting through the air rang in Ichigo's ears, but even as it bounced off the walls and died in his eardrums, he didn't register it, hell-bent on tackling the kidnapper and getting the weapon from his hold. The guy's body was hard and tall as he threw himself onto it and brought it to the ground, and he felt his vision shake as he slammed Grimmjow's wrist against the ground, trying to make those callous fingers open from around the weapon. Within seconds, the gun rattled out of reach but even though the immediate danger was removed, there was no time for victory. With a loud snarl and an almost feral look in his eyes, Grimmjow bucked and twisted out of Ichigo's hold, landing a punch in the carrot-top's jaw and knocking him to the floor. With the roles now reverse, he promptly pressed Ichigo down to the parquet and grabbed his throat, squeezing tightly as he lifted his head off the floor.

"You little piece of trash," the back of Ichigo's skull forcefully met the floor and he grunted, grabbing on the other one's wrist and trying to pry the vice-like grip off of his neck. He heard a low, quivery snicker from above him and then an excruciating wave of pain surged through him as Grimmjow punched his side. Again. And again. And again. It was then, through the bubbling shocks of intensifying agony, that Ichigo realized he was bleeding – and bleeding rather badly for that matter – from a wound he hadn't even noticed being inflicted on his adrenaline-driven body. "Heh, I got you after all, didn't I?"

The observation was flipped almost casually but Ichigo could definitely sense the satisfaction behind those words as Grimmjow punched his bullet wound again, tightening his hold around the carrot-top's neck at the same time. Ichigo's chest tightened and he tried to cough, tried to draw some air into his lungs, but it was all in vain, and the explosions of pain in his side were not helping. His vision was beginning to shake and he writhed again, struggled to push the other man off him, angry, and desperate and frightened that he couldn't do this. Couldn't even help himself, yet alone Toushiro.

Toushiro, Toushiro, Toushi-…

"Let go off him!" For a single second he wasn't sure if he was just dying, imagining things in his last moments. But then the voice came again, shaking, but determined, and the hold of Grimmjow's fingers around his neck slackened. Just a bit.

"Heh… What do you think you're doing with that, Snowy?" The words leaked like sugar-coated poison from Grimmjow's tongue, taunting the world, mocking and laughing at a joke that only he could understand. "You're quaking like a lil leaf there, Shiro… You can't pull that trigger."

"If it means keeping him alive, you bet your ass I will."

Very slowly, very reluctantly, Grimmjow pushed himself off of Ichigo and the carrot-top wheezed, trying to fill his aching breathing organs with oxygen. His head turned to the side and he saw Toushiro, kneeling a couple of meters away from them with the gun clutched in his hands and his red-and-purple eyes trained on his kidnapper. His small hands were shaking so hard, he looked like he was going to either collapse or drop the gun any moment now, but so far he was holding his ground, though holding it quite weakly.

"Are you- Are you alright, Ichigo?" he was trying to keep his gaze on Grimmjow, but the carrot-top could see he was struggling, his vision constantly blurring and forcing him to readjust his aim. The wide smirk on the kidnapper's face showed that he had noticed the weakness as well and was merely waiting for the right time to pounce and reestablish control over the situation, his position alert and ready, like the one of a panther who knew his prey didn't stand a chance. Ichigo needed to do something to help quickly, because Toushiro was obviously not going to last much longer, but as he made a move to sit up, his side screamed in pain and he moaned, slumping back down as he felt a tide of blood push out of his wound and through the already soaked shirt. He heard Toushiro gasp, fear and guilt bubbling in his voice as he spoke again, quieter: "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Ichigo… I'll-… I'll get you out of here, I promise."

How had the roles reversed so suddenly?

Ichigo wanted to laugh and ask how Toushiro was planning to save the day in his state, but the jest somehow clogged his throat and he couldn't find it in himself to say anything. He tried to stand again, but this time it was Grimmjow's hand that pushed him down, pressing him to the floor despite the gun aimed at his head.

"This is not a game, Grimm!" Toushiro shouted, breathing heavily as he tried to keep his hands raised. "Don't touch him!"

"Or what?" Grimmjow mocked, mimicking the boy's trembling voice. "Are you gonna kill me? Is that what you're gonna do?"

"Nope. But _I _might." The sickening sound of metal meeting bone crackled through the room and Ichigo cringed as Grimmjow's body slumped unconscious down over his legs. A hand came out from behind and pulled the limp form off of the carrot-top, throwing it carelessly to the side before a completely unflustered and crowbar-armed Gin crouched next to the wounded teen and gave him an once-over. "Keep pressure on that," he said, grabbing Ichigo's hand, pulling it over the wound and briefly pushing down on it. Then, without so much as a weary sigh, he stepped over the orange-haired guy and went straight to Toushiro.

The last thing Ichigo saw before he passed out, was Toushiro bursting into tears as he dropped the gun and Gin cupped his face and pulled his head to his chest, stroking the white hair and shushing the boy while one hand already dialed the emergency number.

* * *

**_A/N: Just an epilogue to go now. :)  
_**


	24. Epilogue

_**A/N: So. Exams are over, though results are yet to come out. It's been nearly 4 years since this story was started and it is almost strange to see it finally come to an end. :) I'm glad I didn't jam everything in the previous chapter. This way it feels like the story got a proper conclusion, without any rushing. I hope you are pleased with the epilogue - or, well, at least most of you - and I can finally scratch this story off the writing board. Thank you for everyone who's managed to read till this point. You have all been incredibly supportive.  
**_

_**For the few of you who are maybe following my story 'Dearest' (I'm guessing most of you are IchiHitsu fans?), I'm going to pull it down quite soon. I've decided it's very OOC and much more suitable for an original story than for a fanfiction. So we'll see how that works out. :)**_

* * *

It was like his skull had been filled with hot, liquid lead; so _heavy_. So detached from the rest of his scattered, shredded, tortured body. His eyeballs burned and throbbed in their too-small sockets, refusing to see as they were meant to and only causing him more pain and misery, as though he hadn't had enough; plenty and thousands of _enough_. Goddammit, why was he even here? How had he got to this place, and when could he finally leave? He was crazy to ask and to expect an answer, but in his hopeless desire to make sense of what was happening, he did anyways. Somehow, at some point, he had ended up locked in this prison against his will, albeit he had no memories of ever committing a crime, yet alone one that would require a punishment so cruel… Every time he tried to let the world know that he was innocent – _whatever it was, he was innocent!_ - something painfully akin to an invisible noose tightened around his throat and choked the words in his mouth.

He didn't stand a chance… Still, even those who were drowning fought for a while.

When he didn't struggle, gravity tenfold to what he was used to, sucked him through the bed and through the floor, to the very center of the earth while everything else tunneled and shrank, and tightened, and dwindled till there were only indistinguishable figurines in the distance. Such reality was brittle like glass; balance could shatter any moment of any day, and with it – the world as he knew it.

Or had it all collapsed already, was this why he had ended up like this?

_No. It is you who has collapsed. It is you that has crumbled._

He wanted something – wanted it so badly that it suffocated him like gunpowder in the lungs - but that something was out of reach and his chest hurt, because he couldn't breathe or move or even _die_. Stuck in a limbo so slick and narrow that it tormented him to even look at it, time and again, he would let the pull have him and convinced himself it was the right thing to do. It was just too much, too soon, and he didn't know how else to cope.

Then, with time, the sensation of being swallowed by the ground became weaker and the obscure chaos around him gained some order. It still hurt, but the pain was no longer as abstract or as overwhelming as in the beginning, and he didn't burn from the initial fire that had melted his bones, tendons and organs into a hot, angry mess. Occasionally, a stray note or voice would penetrate through the black orb of silence he had built around himself and he would turn his head in wonderment as to what that was, disregarding it instantly as the essence of sounds faded into a meaningless mash…

Until one day, the jumble transformed into something else.

Something almost comprehensible.

_T-sh-ro._

_Tou-rrrr…_

_Toushiro…_

_How._

_Much._

_Longer._

_Are you gonna sleep?_

He shooed the obnoxious rumble away and pretended it wasn't there. For a while, it worked. He neither heard, nor noticed anything seep through to his calm senses. The pain became a dull ache and the ache was something he could deal with. The tug was gone, the heat as well, and he was floating, though from where and in what direction: he had no clue.

But did it really matter?

He let himself be carried around in the depths of this serene ocean, and he stifled the need and craving in his stomach as he continued to exists peacefully, now without fear that he was damned to eternal agony. Beside him, around him and beyond, nights rolled by like pebbles off a slanted rock. He paid them no mind, because time was a completely useless notion now, until, one day, it reached him again – that deep, clandestine call that he so badly wanted to avoid.

_Toushiro, Toushiro, Toushiro…_

He tried to cover his ears with his palms, but the petty attempt proved to be in vain: he couldn't block the intruder out, and instead of minding its distance, this time the thing advanced forth, baring its sharp little teeth and snapping his jaws and claws in preparation.

And then a new power – stronger than the gravity – yanked him forward and up, up through the black sky, and he flew, and he dived, and he tore through the shadows as the darkness pulled back to let him pass. Black. Grey. Brown.

_Light._

And with the light…. Pain.

"Toushiro?"

Toushiro groaned, squinting miserably against the brightness of the room as the illumination tore through his eyelids, bounced off the white walls, sheets, floor and ceiling, and nibbled at his tired sight. It felt like someone had sliced jaggered openings in his face to plant his eyeballs there and make him see and perceive things that he wasn't supposed to. _God…_ why couldn't he just sink back into that comfortable oblivion again? What was the _point_ in being awake?

"Ya're in the hospital. Can ya hear me?" A warm hand pressed against his forehead and he whimpered, thinking irritably that, yes, of course he was in the hospital, where else could he be?, before he finally dared to look up at the face hovering above him. "Hey."

"Hey," Toushiro croaked, staring up at Gin's soft, grinless face. There was a bit of stubble along his chin and the boy's lips curved in an involuntary smile as he felt the sudden urge to reach up and touch it, brush the prickly skin with his thumb to make sure that it was there, along with the guy himself. "You…. Haven't shaved?"

Gin shrugged, sitting back down on the chair beside the bed. His tall body looked ridiculous on such a short seat but he didn't seem bothered, too occupied staring at his ex's probably pasty-white face to mind the furniture.

"Whatever," he grumbled, dismissing the remark as easy as everything else that he felt didn't concern him. His large hand found Toushiro's fingers right under the bandaged wrist and enveloped them delicately as the older teen peered at the patient's face in search for something – perhaps reasons for true worry – before he tried a smirk of his own and failed. "Do ya remember anythin'?"

Toushiro grunted, his brows furrowing in a slight frown as he did something very awkward between a shake and a nod. For a long moment it was like reaching in a bucket of milk and trying to seek out a bead somewhere on the bottom, but eventually his mind started to clear out and random scenes began coming back to him, forming the scattered pieces of a very, very large and unclear puzzle. Gin waited for him to tie the right knots inside his head, for once not rushing anything, and Toushiro found himself being grateful for the patience as the last events he had witness while being conscious slowly became a nice, solid string in the timeline.

And then his breath hitched and he felt a painful spasm, right in the center of his chest.

"Ichigo…" he gasped and against all reason made an attempt to sit up. Gin reacted instantly, pushing a hand down his upper torso and easing him back down, not without a look of disapproval that he reinforced with a displeased hum and a shake of his head.

"Dun do that."

"But he," Toushiro flailed with the words, struggled to capture them as they slipped and bounced out of the grasp of his mind like living fish between wet fingers. "He got s-shot-"

"He's alive, an' he will be fine," Gin stated, not without a certain hint of ennui. "Sleepin' in his room last time I checked on 'im. Ya can go see 'im later."

_Oh, God…_

An enormous weight that he hadn't even realized he was carrying lifted off Toushiro's shoulders and his hand trembled underneath Gin's, his breath coming out in short, weak wheezes. His features softened, so many metaphorical barriers crumbling like sand castles around him as he watched the older student's face, and Ichimaru watched him back in return. It was so much harder to pretend or play a role now that they were here – manners were slightly neglected, thinking reasonably was slightly impeded… And everything was just slightly, slightly more genuine than real life told them it should be…

And was it really that bad?

Ironically, in the unshaved face of the lad above him, Toushiro recognized an image he hadn't even realized he had been missing for years. Here he was, after all this time, the young, pigheaded and brutally honest Gin he had once known, with no carnival costumes on, no stupid grins and fake smiles to cover up the endless pile of anger he had layered over the years – just him. This was the person Toushiro loved and cared for so much, the one who had saved him – not once, but twice – and also the lost little boy who would always be there for him, no matter what.

No matter the price.

_Always._

Toushiro sensed a wave of weakness surge through him and he shook, not quite understanding what was happening until a low sob escaped his lips and he found his eyes burning with tears. He felt like he was drowning in salt and memories - fears that resurfaced to be properly suffered now that he had the time and sanity to experience them fully- and he had no say in the matter; he was just the box, the package that contained all this pain.

And the box was cracking… It was cracking so, so bad.

"Y-you, idiot!" he choked out, pulling his hand out of Gin's hold and squeezing the blanket instead, trying to hold on to something as the emotions swarmed him and threatened to overthrow every last ounce of resistance that he had left. It surged through him like electricity – a clear and honest understanding that he had been the reason and he could've been the cause…

The cause of what?

The cause of other people's death.

"Pet, I can't stand lookin' at ya like this…" Gin whispered, his hands lifting uselessly for a moment, like he didn't know what to do with them. To touch. To stay back? In his mind, everything must've seemed bad… "Please… Jus' don't-"

Don't cry? Don't be sad? Afraid? Angry? Guilty?

"H-how… H-how could you be so-… How coul-d you do this-" Breathe, a little voice inside Toushiro's head reminded, _breathe_. "D-did you even… Did you even stop to _think_?!"

He saw a flash of remorse whip across Ichimaru's face and he tried to look away, tried to stay mad, but the tears came rolling down his cheeks anyways, hot and fat, and heavy. And he wanted the comfort, the bittersweet consolation only Gin could offer, because he was a terrible person like that, he wanted things that weren't his for the taking... He had craved a life that he wasn't meant to get and he had sneaked into a role, which he simply hadn't earned to perform. It was so wrong and selfish, but he couldn't help himself – Toushiro was wrong and selfish, after all. Wrong for everyone who ever made the mistake to get involved with him. Wrong in being here, wrong in all the possible ways imaginable… He was dragging his closest people down, one way or the other, he was destroying everything he touched. His mom. His friends. His family and lovers. Everybody had to suffer, because of him.

"I had to do somethin'," the taller male muttered softly, but Toushiro just shook his head, disregarding the pain that the action caused in his temples.

"Only you could-… Only you!" And it seemed to sum it up so well. Ichigo couldn't have come up with this on his own. He wouldn't have been able to figure out where to look or how to look. But Gin would. Gin always would… Don't forget, Toushiro, whatever it costs, _no matter the price. _And another one will bleed – another person who never signed up for this.

Toushiro squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and fisted the sheets.

"Can't you s-see? This is all-… _All_ I can give you both. I'm a dead weight, j-just like you probably thought that fir-st day we met… And still, you-… You-…" Toushiro was sobbing so hard now, he couldn't inhale properly and he felt like he had climbed on a hysterical rollercoaster that he couldn't get off. "One more moment… One more second, and it could've been… Could've gone so wrong…. Gin, god, Gin, when I s-saw you coming through that window-" He whimpered pathetically and unsuccessfully tried to recoil when Ichimaru's thumb swiped under his eyes, gathering some of the tears that dripped like rainwater off his lashes. "I t-thought… I thought, _please, God, I can't lose them both._ And I knew I shouldn't move. I shouldn't let Grimm _see_… I was so scared. I was _so_ scared…" He didn't fight it this time when Gin shushed him and brushed his wet cheek with that strange, unexpected kind of tenderness only he could muster. Toushiro let him do as he pleased, though it didn't stop the tears from coming, or the words from spilling, or everything else from suffocating him. "And you dragged Kurosaki into this?! What-… What _were_ you thinking?"

"Not you, too," Gin let out a sigh and moved to sit on the edge of Toushiro's bed, stroking the boy's white hair with one hand and collecting the tears with the fingers of the other. He leaned in till his face was right above Toushiro's and let his lips twist into a lop-sided smile, so common for a child who knew he had done something bad but just couldn't bring himself to admit it. "We already got that, ya kno'. We got scolded. Then they thanked us…" he made an exaggeratedly pained face and added. "And then they scolded us some more."

Toushiro let out a small broken laughter through the tears, annoyed when the tiny relief lasted so little before the sobs quaked his small frame again. He wanted to yell and scream and thrash, but he had no strength for that, and no real desire to fight. He needed to be heard and Gin was hearing – for now, it had to be enough.

"I'm not sorry," Gin said, firmer this time, though still keeping his voice quiet and soothing like cool silk across sun-kissed skin. "There was no time ta deal with the police, everythin' was so fucked up… I was stupid, I shouldda thought of where he'd take ya right away, but I had ta hit an' miss a few times before I figured it out an' ran straight ta that place…" His eyes opened in a flash of searing red and for a second he was that vicious, badly-tempered youth again, and Toushiro wanted to cringe, wanted to hide. Then the crimson disappeared and Gin sighed, his expression calming down as he looked back at the diminutive pale person, lost in the stark white hospital bed beneath him. "That idiot wasn' feedin' ya, wasn' even tryin' ta take proper care o' ya an' give ya a chance in the blue moon ta survive… Ya wouldn' have lasted much, pet, dun fool yerself. Ya wouldn' have even made it long enough ta fulfill his stupid idea ta make ya dependent on 'im." Gin paused, his nostrils flaring with anger, and then his shoulders slumped down and he exhaled slowly through his mouth. Then, without warning, he leaned in and very gently, very cautiously, pressed a kiss to the top of the white-haired teen's hair. "I'm not sorry," he said again, this times against the pasty skin on top of the boy's forehead. Another small kiss. The gesture was so innocent and honest that for a moment Toushiro's stomach tightened in a ball and he felt like he would never be able to stop crying.

"Is this goodbye?" he managed brokenly, not sure how else to interpret Ichimaru's behavior. "Gin, is this-"

"Ya know, pet," fingers, cool and long, all across his cheekbones, threading through hair and tears, and skin as thin as paper. "I was wrong about 'im. It pisses me off ta admit it, but it's true, ain't it…? I thought he was jus' as bad as I am, for lying and using you like that," Pain. Now he could finally see it, Gin was letting him, letting him s_ee_. "But I guess he ain't, that bastard, guess he was honest when he said he loved ya… He took a buller fo' ya at the end, didn' he? What more can I ask for?"

"Oh, Gin…" Toushiro whispered, and despite the difficulty, despite what kind of an effort it was causing him, he lifted his hand up to the man's cheek, pressing it to the cool skin in an attempt for comfort. Ichimaru's fingers immediately wrapped around his bandaged wrist and he felt those thin lips press to his palm, holding it tightly as though he just couldn't bring himself to let go, regardless of what he said or knew he was saying. "You know I love you, right?"

Ichimaru nodded, remaining silent this time, for a long, long while.

"But it's stronger what ya feel fo' 'im now, ain't it? It's more than… this? More than us?" it felt like every word caused him an unspeakable effort. Every single syllable. Gin kept speaking nonetheless, and for that Toushiro loved him all the more… though still no enough. It could never be enough again.

"I'm so sorry," the smaller male mumbled genuinely, and his heart squeezed so tight in his breast, he thought it might stop beating. "We missed our chance, I think… There is no going back."

Slowly, Gin lowered Toushiro's hand back down to the bed and sighed. For a split second there was that side of him again – strong and fair, even in his vulnerability – but when he looked up, the mask was already on and he grinned, rising off the cot.

"Well," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he tilted his head to the side and gave Toushiro one final quirky look. "I betta' go now. Yer uncle should be back soon. He went to get a coffee. I-" his sentence tore off like a weak cotton thread and he paused, seeming almost lost for a trice before he regained his composure and added with a nod. "I'll come by to check on ya later, yeah?"

Toushiro just smiled. There was no need to say anything else.

But as he watched Gin walk out of the room, tall and handsome and still very much a part of him, he realized that this was it.

He was finally free to move on.

* * *

The next couple of days were much more hectic than he expected his time in a hospital could possibly be. Police. Questions. Answers. More, and more, and more of the same exhausting crap, all jammed in the short intervals when he was awake… Gin came a few times, laughing when Toushiro complained he had been assigned therapy, and then patting his hand when the boy got really upset over the whole ordeal. Between those visits and the interrogation, he somehow never got around to seeing Ichigo. He had half hoped the carrot-top would initiate a meeting himself, but it was a rather selfish thing to wish for considering the guy was probably much worse off physically than Toushiro was.

By the time the weekend showed up round the corner, the boy had had enough. On Sunday he decided he couldn't stand the waiting any longer and as soon as the day faded into an early evening and the hospital became less busy, he pushed the covers off and took a hold of the IV. Standing up was rather weird after so much time spent in bed, so he took a while to get on his feet, telling himself not to get worked up over the snail pace and rather engage himself with brighter thoughts.

Such as the possibility of passing the corridor without meeting anyone and without his hospital gown revealing his ass to any unwilling witnesses.

He wanted to avoid the nurse, suspecting that if he ran into her, she might make him sit in a wheelchair, which would just make him look sicker than he was (and he didn't want to worry Ichigo unnecessarily), and so, clutching the IV pole, he peered into the corridor and looked around to make sure the coast was clear. Gin had told him where Ichigo's room was, so he went straight for the kill, trotting as quickly as he could in the given direction while still feeling slightly out of shape and having to wheel all his tubes along with himself as well. He passed a couple of doors, happy that nobody from the staff seemed to notice him, and after a minute or two of confusion, arrived in front of the correct room.

_Right. _To knock or not to knock? To crack the door open and peek, or walk straight in?

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Toushiro told himself he was being stupid. He was acting like a school girl on a first date, and given the circumstances – both the surroundings and the indecent attire – he had no reasons to feel this way. If anything, he should've come to visit much earlier, to thank the person who had got shot just to get him out of that place safe.

But maybe that's why he was nervous… He shouldn't have put off their reunion for so long. What would Ichigo think of him now? Had Toushiro proven himself heartless and ungrateful, after everything that they'd been through?

_Stop it_! Chasing the thoughts away before they could get the better of him, Toushiro took a deep breath, clutched the IV closer for reassurance and pushed the door open with his bare foot.

The room was fairly small and rather badly lit, the only sound being the low drone of the tiny TV set attached at the corner. There was an empty bed crowding the entrance and then, further and right next to the window, there was Ichigo's cot, along with a very bored-looking, absent-minded carrot-top propped against a couple of pillows and fiddling with an ancient remote control. The creak from the door being opened had surely not gone unnoticed, but it took Ichigo a minute to take interest in whoever had entered, the slightly weary expression on his face clearly indicating that he was expecting to see a nurse as he finally bothered to turn his head and actually check. For one single millisecond, he failed to react properly, just frowning in confusion at the lack of the familiar medical uniform that he was so used to, and then his mind finally clicked and those sleepy brown eyes widened in recognition.

"Toushiro!" the taller student gasped, scrambling to sit up straight without knocking any of the presents piled up on his nightstand in the process. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

The genuine concern in the carrot-top's voice had Toushiro's heart clenching rather hard in his chest and he ducked his head down, his blue-and-green gaze fixing on his own wriggling toes for a moment. Ichigo wasn't anymore dressed under that flimsy blanket than he was, but he felt horribly naked anyways, like he needed to cover himself up, wrap his body in multiple thick layers and only dare to peel one or two at a time when there was no one to watch and judge.

"I should be," he trailed off uncertainly, feeling his fingers fidget around the IV pole as he struggled to remain perfectly still till told otherwise. "But I feel like I need to be here more than back in my room. I hope you don't mind… I just… I just really wanted to see you, you know. Wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh," Ichigo managed dumbly, his brows slowly ascending to meet his hairline. He looked momentarily at a loss, his lips moving soundlessly as though the words wouldn't quite make it past his gullet, and then he cleared his throat and added a bit shakily: "Well. I'm doing fine, thank you. What about you?"

"I'm-" Toushiro shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling the cold seep through his bare soles now that he had to stand in one spot rather than move. "I'm fine." He nodded to establish the veracity of the statement and, on cue, nearly asked Ichigo if he was alright for a second time that evening.

"That's good," the carrot-top stammered out, still staring at his guest with unusually wide eyes. "That's-… I'm really glad. I'm, I was worried."

"Yeah. You shouldn't have been."

"I heard you were assigned therapy."

"O-oh. Um. Yeah," Toushiro scowled a little, trying not to overthink the comment as an unpleasant tingle made itself known from the very tips of his fingers, up his elbows and arms, all the way to the tiny hairs at the back of his neck. Therapy was still something he needed to work on accepting into his life - to welcome it as a health-preserving necessity rather than an enforced punishment, and discuss it leisurely with others even if the mere thought of it currently made him shiver. He was in an interesting predicament, really. The reasonable, mature part of him realized why it was so important to unload the cargo of the whole experience to a professional and have the opportunity to start off fresh, with all of it behind him once and for all, but the other half – the more distrusting, obstinate and disturbed one – just wanted to lock everything up and let it fester at the bottom of his heart, where nobody except him would have access to what he had gone through, and no one would ever witness how weak and vulnerable he had felt in Grimmjow's clutches. "It's just for a short while. Nothing too serious, honest."

Seemingly picking up on the discomfort in the other one's demeanor, Ichigo gave a brief nod of understanding and after a small pause smoothly changed the subject.

"Well, you can come in if you want. You don't have to stand there…" he waved around the rest of the room indefinitely and then clumsily reached to switch the TV off, one hand involuntary pressing over his bandaged side where Toushiro remembered the bullet had pierced him. "It's nice to have company other than your crazy family and the nurse. Well, Ichimaru stopped by once, but mostly to tell me I was a moron, which, I think was his way of calling it a truce." Ichigo let out a small chuckle and put the remote control away, his palm still pressing into his wound as he adjusted himself more comfortably into a sitting position against the pillows. Realizing a bit belatedly that he was supposed to be doing something, Toushiro averted his gaze from where it was stubbornly riveted on Ichigo's bandage and looked around the room to immediately zero in on a creaky chair stored in the corner. One minute later he was seated next to the carrot-top's cot, his IV pole looming over his head and his brows locked in a slight scowl as he realized just how unpleasant it was to sit on anything other than a pile of sheets when you were wearing only a hospital gown.

"Do you want some chocolate?" the carrot-top offered once Toushiro was done trying to get himself comfortable in the chair. "I have plenty. I'll probably develop some kind of a dental problem by the time they get us discharged."

"I know what you mean," Toushiro muttered as he dropped his hands in his lap laced the tips of his fingers together. "How do you think I have survived up until now, what with the delicious hospital food and all."

"I like it when they give jellos sometimes," Ichigo supplied optimistically, managing a small grin. "The nurse even saves me a second one every once in a while, but only if I tell her she looks fabulous, and make it sound believable too. And _trust_ me, that's a difficult one. I need to try harder every time."

Against his better judgment, Toushiro found himself responding to the goofy smile with a small, timid one of his own, the familiar, easy way in which the carrot-top's antics affected him now acting like a bittersweet medicine for his aching chest. A part of him had almost hoped he wouldn't feel anything – that he would discover, by some peculiar miracle, that he no longer cared as much as he was afraid he did. But the truth was, he probably cared even more still, more than he could ever handle, let alone leave behind as though it were useless garbage.

"The jellos are manageable," Toushiro conceded quietly, rolling his eyes even as he said so. "But the rest of it tastes like it has already been chewed, spat out, and served for us to savor."

Ichigo opened his mouth, probably with the intention to continue defending the honour of the hospital food, but then he seemingly changed his mind and folded his lips back together. His features gradually softened and he took a deep breath in, a very small smile tugging at the corner of his eyes as he studied Toushiro carefully.

"They are sending Grimmjow back to prison, you know, this time for much longer. He won't be able to hurt you anymore," his fingers strained up for a moment, like he was maybe planning to reach across and touch the other one's face, but then he quickly remembered his place and relaxed his hand back down, smoothing his cover clumsily as though the nonexistent wrinkles had been the actual reason for the movement to begin with. "That page of your life is officially closed. You don't need to worry about it from now on."

Toushiro didn't react for a couple of seconds, just thoughtfully worrying his lower lip with his teeth as he stared back into the pair of brown irises before him, surprised by the air of calm and tenderness that they seemed to radiate even after all that had happened the past week, after all the fighting, heartbreak, panic and fear. Truth to be told, Toushiro didn't have a clue how to go about what he had come for. The only thing that he knew was that he had arrived in front of Ichigo's door with a purpose and a goal, which he had the full intention of achieving, even if cost him swallowing an enormous mouthful of his own pride.

"There is a good chance that none of that would've been possible if it wasn't for you," the genius noticed, looking back down at his hands for a second before he gathered the strength to seek out Ichigo's eyes again. Sensibility was what he needed right now. Sensibility and control, rather than a whole bunch of tears and snot. But his pulse was already accelerating and he could feel a small tremor beginning in his fingers, a sense of helplessness, and weakness, and despair that seemed to haunt him every time he tried to refer to his captivity. Nonetheless, he tried again, determined not to cave in, and he was rewarded when his words came out sterile and clean, stringing one after the other as though each had its own meaning but was in no way attached to the one before or the one after it. "I know I should've come visit you earlier, to tell you this and let you know that I appreciate what you did… Because I am thankful, I am, even if I still think you took an enormous risk that you were in no way obliged to take, and-" his perfectly steady, perfectly schooled voiced broke at that moment and Toushiro choked, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as he tried to get a hold of his feelings before he had made a complete fool out of himself. "And you got shot."

It wasn't what he had been planning to say, and it came out much more like a sob than a clear, neat statement, which was absolutely against the idea the boy had initially had in mind. However, at this point there was little he could do about hiding the way the memory of what had happened in that building affected him, and so he just took a few breaths in and out through his nose and urged himself to calm down. A warm hand found his arm, stroking slowly up and down in a calming manner, and Toushiro allowed the affection to soak into his skin, chasing some of the anxiety away before the emotion could blossom into something unbearable and overwhelming. Something he just couldn't reign in.

"I'd do it again, any day, _every_ day," Ichigo's voice muttered, much closer than the smaller male had expected, and when he lifted his eyes, he found the carrot-top sitting on the edge of the bed right opposite of him, his whole body leaning forward and his knees right about touching Toushiro's as he peered into the younger teen's eyes with a tiny, slightly sad smile. "I want you to know that in your heart, okay? And never feel guilty about anything that happened, because I wanted to do what I did, and nothing you would've said or done at the time would've made me reconsider. I love you, alright? I know you might not believe me when I say that anymore, but I'm saying it anyways, and I'll say it as many times as I have to, and take as many bullets as I need to, if it means one day you'd find it in yourself to forgive me and maybe give us another chance."

Toushiro dropped his hand down and sniffled pitifully, all the smart words suddenly gone from his head as he let the warmth of Ichigo's voice seep into his flesh, down to his very bones, and then deeper, deeper than anything physical and substantial. Before he had had any time to reconsider, he let his forehead lean forward till it was resting on the carrot-top's shoulder, and he was inhaling deeply, breathing in every last bit of Kurosaki's smell that he had gone without for so unbearably long.

"I can't help the way I feel when I think about why you asked me out to begin with," he whispered, grateful when Ichigo's hands slipped over his back and down his sides, rubbing soothing circles into his skin to ease some of the tension. There was so much that he wanted to say, so much that he had to tell this person, and so little that he was sure about. He didn't want to come across as needy and wimpy, but it felt like it was too late for that anymore. He already looked like an idiot. "You make me so mad, you know? You drive me crazy, because every time I think about all the shit you got into – that I know of anyways – I want to just hit you and hit you till I knock some sense into your thick, stupid, ginger head." He heard Ichigo chuckle above him and gave up a little laughter of his own, before he slowly pushed himself away from the carrot-top to look him up in the face. "But if you weren't such an idiot, you wouldn't be you. And I can't do a thing about the fact that I'm in love with the person you are, even if I wish you hadn't lied to me the way you did."

Ichigo's face had grown earnest now, more sober than before, and his hands had moved to rest on Toushiro's shoulders, squeezing them ever so slightly through the papery hospital gown.

"I am sorry," he rasped out. "God, I wish you knew how sorry I am."

Toushiro nodded, letting the apology in for the very first time ever and allowing himself to accept it, to appreciate and welcome it. He wasn't stupid enough to think they could just go back to the way they were before – recovery would be slow, and they would need to work through it step by step till they rebuilt their trust – but he had a feeling even this much would be enough for Ichigo. They both wanted this just as badly.

"I want you to promise, to _swear_, that you would never lie to me like that, ever again. And then," Toushiro swallowed with difficulty, wringing his fingers a little down in his lap as he watched Ichigo's face from close by. "Then I would like… to try again. And see where it goes."

There was a long moment during which the carrot-top just stared back at him, his face still serious, even though a twinkle of a smile was already forming in his eyes. Then he lifted his hand and cupped the side of Toushiro's face, leaning in very, very slowly till he could deliver the smallest of pecks to the tip of the smaller male's nose.

"I would very much like that," he whispered, slipping his other hand over Toushiro's loosely curled fists. "And if I ever lie to you again, I give you permission to pick up a gun and shoot me straight in the gut. It already seems like I can take it."

Toushiro let out a soft chuckle and closed his eyes, allowing himself the luxury to squeeze back Ichigo's fingers.

He didn't know how long it would take to patch everything up and move on for real.

But then again…

…they had all the time in the world to set things right, didn't they?

**The end.**


End file.
